Psalm 63

Isaac Watts

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Seeking God.

My God, permit my tongue
This joy, to call thee mine;
And let my early cries prevail
To taste thy love divine.

My thirsty, fainting soul
Thy mercy doth implore;
Not travellers in desert lands
Can pant for water more.

Within thy churches, Lord,
I long to find my place;
Thy power and glory to behold,
And feel thy quick'ning grace.

For life without thy love
No relish can afford;
No joy can be compared to this,
To serve and please the Lord.

To thee I'll lift my hands,
And praise thee while I live;
Not the rich dainties of a feast
Such food or pleasure give.

In wakeful hours at night
I call my God to mind;
I think how wise thy counsels are,
And all thy dealings kind.

Since thou hast been my help,
To thee my spirit flies,
And on thy watchful providence
My cheerful hope relies.

The shadow of thy wings
My soul in safety keeps;
I follow where my Father leads,
And he supports my steps.

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