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As Pants the Hart 14
Lyrics: Tate and Brady
Tune: William Gay's Book, Bristol, England, 1776
Meter: C.M. (8.6.8.6)
As pants the hart for cooling streams
When heated in the chase,
So longs my soul, O God, for thee,
And thy refreshing grace.
God of my strength, how long shall I
Like one forgotten mourn?
Forlorn, forsaken, and exposed
To my oppressor's scorn?
My heart is pierced as with a sword
Whilst thus my foes upbraid:
"Vain boaster, where is now thy God,
And where his promised aid?"
Why restless, why cast down, my soul?
Hope still, and thou shalt sing
The praise of him who is thy God,
Thy health's eternal spring.
To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
The God whom we adore,
Be glory as it was, is now,
And shall be evermore.
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