Isaac Watts, 1674-1748
Early, my God, without delay,|
I haste to seek thy face;
My thirsty spirit faints away
Without thy cheering grace.
2. So pilgrims on the scorching sand,
3. I've seen thy glory and thy power
4. Not all the blessings of a feast|
Can please my soul so well,
As when thy richer grace I taste,
And in thy presence dwell.
5. Not life itself, with all her joys,
6. Thus till my last expiring day
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