My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the Lord: my heart and my flesh crieth out for the living God.@Psalm 84:2

From The Psalter (Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania: United Presbyterian Board of Publication, 1912), number 225.

Irish A Collection of Hymns and Sacred Poems, by S. Powell (Dublin, Ireland: 1749) (🔊 pdf nwc).

How dear to me, O Lord of Hosts,
The place where Thou dost dwell;
The tabernacles of Thy grace
In pleasantness excel.

My spirit longs, yea, even faints,
Thy sacred courts to see;
My thirsting heart and flesh cry out,
O living God, for Thee.

Beneath Thy care the sparrow finds
A place of peaceful rest;
Where she may safely lay her young
The swallow finds a nest.

Then, Lord of Hosts, my king, my God,
Thy love will shelter me;
Beneath Thy altar’s peaceful shade
My dwelling place shall be.

Blest they who dwell within Thy house,
Their perfect strength Thou art;
Their joyful praise shall never cease,
Thy ways are in their heart.

Their tears of grief, like early rain,
Sweet springs of joy shall fill;
With strength renewed they journey safe
To Zion’s holy hill.