How dear to me, O Lord of Hosts,
The place where Thou dost dwell;
The tabernacles of Thy grace
In pleasantness excel.
My spirit longs, yea, even faints,
Thy sacred courts to see;
My thirsting heart and flesh cry out,
O living God, for Thee.
Beneath Thy care the sparrow finds
A place of peaceful rest;
Where she may safely lay her young
The swallow finds a nest;
Then, Lord of Hosts, my King, my God,
Thy love will shelter me;
Beneath Thy altar's peaceful shade
My dwelling place shall be.
Blest they who dwell within Thy house,
Their perfect strength Thou art;
Their joyful praise shall never cease,
Thy ways are in their heart.
Their tears of grief, like early rain,
Sweet springs of joy shall fill;
With strength renewed they journey safe
To Zion's holy hill.
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