Psalm 84Words: The Scottish Psalter To the chief Musician upon Gittith, 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. 7 So they from strength unwearied go still forward unto strength, Until in Zion they appear before the Lord at length. 8 Lord God of hosts, my prayer hear; O Jacob's God, give ear. 9 See God our shield, look on the face of thine anointed dear. 10 For in thy courts one day excels a thousand; rather in My God's house will I keep a door, than dwell in tents of sin. 11 For God the Lord's a sun and shield: he'll grace and glory give; And will withhold no good from them that uprightly do live. 12 O thou that art the Lord of hosts, that man is truly blest, Who by assured confidence on thee alone doth rest. |
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