1 How lovely is thy dwelling-place,
O Lord of hosts, to me!
The tabernacles of thy grace
how pleasant, Lord, they be!
2 My thirsty soul longs veh’mently,
yea faints, thy courts to see:
My very heart and flesh cry out,
O living God, for thee.
3 Behold, the sparrow findeth out
an house wherein to rest;
The swallow also for herself
hath purchased a nest;
Ev’n thine own altars,* where she safe
her young ones forth may bring,
O thou almighty Lord of hosts,
who art my God and King.
4 Blessed are they in thy house that dwell,
they ever give thee praise.
5 Blessed is the man whose strength thou art,
in whose heart are thy ways:
6 Who passing thorough Baca’s vale,
therein do dig up wells;
Also the rain that falleth down
the pools with water fills.
Sing Praise! 