When heated in the chase,
So longs my soul, O God, for Thee,
And Thy refreshing grace.
Trust God, who will employ
His aid for thee, and change these sighs
To thankful hymns of joy.
My thirsty soul doth pine;
Oh, when shall I behold Thy face,
Thou Majesty Divine?
Like one forgotten, mourn,
Forlorn, forsaken, and exposed
To my oppressor’s scorn?
Hope still, and thou shalt sing
The praise of Him who is thy God,
Thy health’s eternal spring.