Psalm LXXXIV

How lovely is thy dwelling-place,
O Lord of Hosts, to me!
The tabernacles of thy grace,
How pleasant, Lord, they be!

My thirsty soul doth long and faint
The Courts of God to see;
My heart, and even my flesh cry out,
O living God, for thee.

The sparrow hath found out a house,
The swallow found a nest,
Where she may lay her young, and where
Her self and they may rest.
Even near thy holy Altars they
May make their safe abode;
And why not I, seeing thou art
My King and only God?

Blest are they in thy house that dwell,
They always give thee praise.

Blessed is he whose strength's in thee,
In whose heart are thy ways.

Who passing as through Bala's vale,
Make it a place of wells,
And the descending plenteous rain
The pools with water fills.

Unwearied they forward go,
Marching from strength to strength,
Till all in Sion do appear
Before the Lord at length.

Lord God of Hosts, my prayer hear,
O Jacob's God give ear:

O God, our shield, look on the face
Of thine anointed dear.

Because one day within thy house
Is better to abide,
Than in another place to stay
A thousand days beside.
Much rather would I keep a door
In the house of my God,
Than in the tents of wickedness
To take up mine abode.

For the Lord God, our Sun and Shield,
Will grace and glory give,
And no good thing from them with-hold
Who uprightly do live.

O thou that art the Lord of Hosts,
That man is surely blest,
Who by a stedfast confidence
On thee alone doth rest.