Early my God, without delay
I haste to seek Thy face;
My thirsty spirit faints away
Without Thy cheering grace.
So pilgrims on the scorching sand,
Beneath a burning sky,
Long for a cooling stream at hand,
And they must drink or die.
I've seen Thy glory and Thy power
Through all Thy temple shine;
My God, repeat that heavenly hour,
That vision so divine.
Not life itself, with all its joys,
Can my best passions move,
Or raise so high my cheerful voice
As Thy forgiving love.