PSAL. LXXXIV.

How lovely are thy dwellings fair!
O Lord of Hoasts, how dear
The pleasant Tabernacles are
Where thou do'st dwell so near!

2 My Soul doth long and almost die [ 5 ]
Thy Courts O Lord to see,
My heart and flesh aloud do crie,
O living God, for thee.

3 There ev'n the Sparrow freed from wrong
Hath found a house of rest, [ 10 ]
The Swallow there, to lay her young
Hath built her brooding nest,
Ev'n by thy Altars Lord of Hoasts
They find their safe abode,
And home they fly from round the Coasts [ 15 ]
Toward thee, My King, my God.

4 Happy, who in thy house reside
Where thee they ever praise,

5 Happy, whose strength in thee doth bide,
And in their hearts thy waies! [ 20 ]

6 They pass through Baca's thirstie Vale,
That dry and barren ground
As through a fruitful watry Dale
Where Springs and Showrs abound.

7 They journey on from strength to strength [ 25 ]
With joy and gladsom cheer
Till all before our God at length
In Sion do appear.

8 Lord God of Hoasts hear now my praier,
O Jacobs God give ear, [ 30 ]

9 Thou God our shield look on the face
Of thy anointed dear.

10 For one day in thy Courts to be
Is better, and more blest
Then in the joyes of Vanity, [ 35 ]
A thousand daies at best.
I in the temple of my God
Had rather keep a dore,
Then dwell in Tents and rich abode
With Sin for evermore. [ 40 ]

11 For God the Lord, both Sun and Shield
Gives grace and glory bright,
No good from them shall be with-held
Whose waies are just and right.

12 Lord God of Hoasts that raign'st on high, [ 45 ]
That man is truly blest
Who only on thee doth relie.
And in thee only rest.