Blest Jesus, source of grace divine,
What soul-refreshing streams are Thine!
O bring these healing waters nigh,
Or we must droop, and fall, and die.
No traveler through desert lands,
’Midst scorching suns, and burning sands,
More eager longs for cooling rain,
Or pants the current to obtain.
Our longing souls aloud would sing,
Spring up, celestial fountain, spring;
To an abundant river flow,
And cheer this thirsty land below.
May this blest torrent near my side
Through all the desert gently glide;
Then in Emmanuel’s land above,
Spread to a sea of joy and love.