1 Like as the hart for water-brooksin thirst doth pant and bray;So pants my longing soul, O God,that come to thee I may.
2 My soul for God, the living God,doth thirst: when shall I nearUnto thy countenance approach,and in God's sight appear?
3 My tears have unto me been meat,both in the night and day,While unto me continually,Where is thy God? they say.
4 My soul is poured out in me,when this I think upon;Because that with the multitudeI heretofore had gone:With them into God's house I went,with voice of joy and praise;Yea, with the multitude that keptthe solemn holy days.