Source of my spirit's deep desire

For living joys that shall not perish,

The patient hope Thy words inspire,

Still let Thy tender mercy cherish.

On Thee my humbled soul would wait,

Her utmost weakness calmly learning,

And see Thy grace its way create,

Through thorns and briers which Thou art burning.

Gladly my inmost heart would know

The love that now it faintly traces,

And see the streams from Zion flow

O'er all its waste and desert places.

And still I hope — O not in vain!

I know, this ho]y seed possessing,

Thou wilt come down like gentle rain,

And make the barren ground a blessing.