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The Choir and The Oratory

or Praise and Prayer. By Josiah Conder

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“AS THE HART PANTETH FOR THE WATER BROOKS.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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202

“AS THE HART PANTETH FOR THE WATER BROOKS.

Psalm xlii.—iii.

As for the distant water pants the desert's fleet gazelle,
So longs my heart for Thee, O God! within Thy courts to dwell.
Like her I thirst, but thirst for Thee, the Source of life and joy.
Oh, when among Thy saints again shall praise my tongue employ?
But here my tears have been my drink, my solace night and day;
While, Where is now thy God? I hear the taunting heathen say.
I think upon the happy days, and mourn the Sabbaths fled,
When to the house of God with songs the joyous train I led.
Yet, why dejected, O my soul? Why faint beneath the rod?
Hope on, for I shall praise Him still, my Helper and my God.

203

But, O my God, the thought of Thee with grief my bosom fills,
Here beyond Jordan's fountains, amid Hermon's rocky hills.
Around the gathering waters roar, and glen to glen replies;
But deeper waters whelm my soul, and floods of trouble rise.
Once in Thy loving-kindness blest, swift flew my days along:
Amid the watches of the night, Thy praise inspired my song.
But now I cry, O God my Rock, why hast Thou cast me off,
To groan beneath oppression, and endure the impious scoff?
Keen as a sword the cruel taunt, repeated day by day:
Where is the God he trusted in? my foes insulting say.
Yet, why art thou cast down, my soul? Why faint beneath the rod?
Hope on, for I shall praise Him still, my Helper and my God.

204

Judge Thou my cause: right me, O God, against a ruthless race.
Oh save me from a treacherous foe, unprincipled and base.
For Thou my strength, my fortress art: why hast Thou cast me off,
To groan beneath oppression, and endure the impious scoff?
Send forth Thy light and truth, O Lord, to point and guide my road;
To lead me to Thy holy mount, even to Thy blest abode.
Then at Thine altar, O my God, my harp and voice shall raise
To Thee, the Author of my joy, triumphant hymns of praise!
Then, why art thou cast down, my soul? Why faint beneath the rod?
Hope on, for I shall praise Him still, my Saviour and my God.