How lovely is Thy dwelling-place!
Within Thy courts I long to be;
Thy presence, Lord, my spirit craves,
For this my heart cries out to Thee.
At Thy burnt-offering altar, Lord,
And at Thine incense altar blest,
Even the sparrow finds a home,
And swallow there prepares her nest.
Men, as the sparrow, frail and small,
When living in Thy house find rest,
Relying on the altar's blood,
Enjoying there the incense blest.
How blessed are those men indeed!
Trusting in Thee they are made strong;
Highways to Zion in their hearts,
The way they care not, rough or long.
Passing the weeping valley they
Make it a place of springing wells;
The rain with blessings covers it
And in the way God's mercy tells.
From strength to strength they go, and all
Before the Lord in Zion meet;
Thus ever seeking Thine own self,
They need Thy care and grace replete.
Better a day within Thy courts
Than days a thousand I would tell;
I'd rather at Thy threshold stand
Than in the wicked's tents to dwell.
Thou art a sun, Thou art a shield,
Thou grace and glory wilt supply;
Thy presence and Thy very self
My need in fulness satisfy.
Not one good thing wilt Thou withhold
From those who walk in uprightness;
Bless'd is the man that trusts in Thee
With grace and glory measureless.