As thirsts the hart for wa­ter brooks,
So thirsts my soul, O God, for Thee;
It seeks for God, and ev­er looks,
And longs the liv­ing God to see,
And longs the liv­ing God to see.

Far from the courts of God, my tears
Have been my food by night and day,
While con­stant­ly with bit­ter sneers,
Where is thy God? the scoff­ers say,
Where is thy God? the scoff­ers say.

With grief I think of days gone by,
When oft I trod the hal­lowed way
To Zi­on, prais­ing God on high
With throngs who kept the ho­ly day,
With throngs who kept the ho­ly day.

O why art thou cast down, my soul,
And why so trou­bled shouldst thou be?
Hope thou in God, and Him ex­tol,
Who gives His sav­ing help to me,
Who gives His sav­ing help to me.

Since, O my God, my soul is bowed,
In ex­ile far, with bit­ter grief,
I turn my thoughts to Thy abode,
For con­so­la­tion and relief,
For con­so­la­tion and relief.

With migh­ty voice deep calls to deep,
While rag­ing storms Thy judg­ments tell;
The ang­ry bil­lows o’er me leap,
The waves of sor­row near me swell,
The waves of sor­row near me swell.

Though trou­bles surge, yet through the day
The Lord His gra­cious help will give,
And in the night my heart will pray
And sing to Him in whom I live,
And sing to Him in whom I live.

To God my Rock I cry and say,
O why hast Thou for­got­ten me?
Why go I mourn­ing on my way,
Oppressed by foes that know not Thee,
Oppressed by foes that know not Thee?

With ang­uish as from pierc­ing sword
Reproach of bit­ter foes I hear,
While day by day, with taunt­ing word,
Where is thy God? the scoff­ers sneer.
Where is thy God? the scoff­ers sneer.

O why art thou cast down, my soul,
And why so trou­bled shouldst thou be?
Hope thou in God, and Him ex­tol,
Who gives His sav­ing help to me,
Who gives His sav­ing help to me.