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As Pants The Hart


As pants the hart for cooling streams,
When heated in the chase,
So longs my soul God, for thee
And thy refreshing grace.

For Thee my God, the Living God,
My thirsty soul doth pine;
O, when shall I behold Thy face?
Thou Majesty divine?

Why restless, why cast down, my soul,
Hope still; and thou shalt sing
The praise of him, Who Is thy god,
The health's eternal spring.

To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
The God Who we adore,
Be glory as it was, is now,
And shall be evermore.


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