1 When fainting in the sultry waste,
And parchâd with thirst extreme,
The weary pilgrim longs to taste
The cool, refreshing stream;
2 Should, sudden, to his hopeless eye
A crystal spring appear,
How would th’ enlivening, sweet supply
His drooping spirits cheer !
3 So longs the weary, fainting mind,
Oppressâd with sins and woes,
Some soul-reviving spring to find,
Whence heavenly comfort flows.
4 Thus sweet the consolations are,
The promises impart,
Here flowing streams of life appear,
To ease the panting heart.
5 0 may I thirst for thee, my God,
With ardent, strong desire ;
And still through all this desert road,
To taste thy grace aspire.
6 Then shall my prayer to thee ascend,
A grateful sacrifice;
My plaintive voice thou wilt attend,
And grant me full supplies.
Anne Steele, Hymns, Psalms, and Poems