THE BLACKWELL TUNE
West Gallery Music
Like as the hart doth pant and bray
The well-springs to obtain:
So doth my soul desire alway
With thee, Lord, to remain.
My soul doth thirst, and would draw near
The living God of might:
Oh when shall I come and appear
In the presence of thy sight?
The tears are all times my repast
Which from my eyes do slide;
Whilst wicked men cry out so fast,
"Where now is God thy guide?"
Alas, what grief it is to think
The freedom once I had:
Therefore my soul, as at pit's brink,
Most heavy is and sad.