How pleasant, how divinely fair

1How pleasant, how divinely fair, O Lord of hosts, thy dwellings are! With long desire my spirit faints To meet th' assemblies of thy saints.

2My flesh would rest in thine abode, My panting heart cries out for God; My God, my King, why should I be So far from all my joys and thee?

3Blest are the souls that find a place Within the temple of thy grace; There they behold thy gentler rays, And seek thy face, and learn thy praise.

4Blest are the men whose hearts are set To find the way to Zion's gate; God is their strength; and through the road They lean upon their helper, God.