And parched with thirst extreme,
The weary pilgrim longs to taste
The cool, refreshing stream.
2So longs the weary, fainting mind,
Oppressed with sins and woes,
Some soul-reviving spring to find,
Whence heavenly comfort flows.
3O, may I thirst for thee, my God,
With ardent, strong desire;
And still, through all this desert road,