428. 7s. M. 6l. Montgomery.
The Soul panting for God.
1As the hart, with eager looks,
Panteth for the water-brooks,
So my soul, athirst for thee,
Pants the living God to see;
When, O when, with filial fear,
Lord, shall I to thee draw near?
2Why art thou cast down, my soul?
God, thy God, shall make thee whole:
Why art thou disquieted?
God shall lift thy fallen head,
And his countenance benign
Be the saving health of thine.