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Isaac Watts - Psalm 84 part 1
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The pleasure of public worship.

How pleasant, how divinely fair,
O Lord of hosts, thy dwellings are!
With long desire my spirit faints
To meet th` assemblies of thy saints.

My flesh would rest in thine abode,
My panting heart cries out for God;
My God! my King! why should I be
So far from all my joys and thee?

The sparrow chooses where to rest,
And for her young provides her nest;
But will my God to sparrows grant
That pleasure which his children want?

Blest are the saints who sit on high
Around thy throne of majesty;
Thy brightest glories shine above,
And all their work is praise and love.

Blest are the souls who find a place
Within the temple of thy grace;
There they behold thy gentler rays,
And seek thy face, and learn thy praise.

Blest are the men whose hearts are set
To find the way to Zion`s gate;
God is their strength, and through the road
They lean upon their helper God.

Cheerful they walk with growing strength,
Till all shall meet in heav`n at length,
Till all before thy face appear,
And join in nobler worship there.
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