Psalm 42 (Tate & Brady)

1 As pants the hart for cooling streams,

When heated in the chase,

So longs my soul, O God, for thee,

And thy refreshing grace.

2 For thee, my God, the living God,

My thirsty soul doth pine;

O when shall I behold thy face,

Thou Majesty divine!

3 Tears are my constant food, while

thus insulting foes upbraid:

"Deluded wretch! Where's now thy God?

And where his promis'd aid?"

4 I sigh when'er my musing thoughts

those happy days present,

When I with troops of pious friends

thy temple did frequent:

When I advanc'd with songs of praise

my solemn vows to pay,

And led the joyful sacred throng,

that kept the festal day.

5 Why restless, why cast down, my soul?

Trust God, and he'll employ

His aid for thee, and change these sighs

to thankful hymns of joy.

6 My soul's cast down, O God, but thinks

on thee and Sion still:

From Jordan's bank, from Hermon's heights,

and Missar's humbler hill.

7 One trouble calls another on,

and bursting o'er my head,

Fall spouting down, till round my soul

a roaring sea is spread.

8 But when thy presence, Lord of life,

has once dispell'd this storm,

To thee I'll midnight anthems sing,

and all my vows perform.

9 God of my strength, how long shall I,

Like one forgotten, mourn?

Forlorn, forsaken, and exposed

To my oppressor's scorn.

10 My heart is pierd'd, as with a sword,

whilst thus my foes upbraid,

"Vain boaster, where is now thy God?

and where his promis'd aid?"

11 Why restless, why cast down, my soul?

Hope still, and thou shalt sing

The praise of him who is thy God,

Thy health's eternal spring.