The Pleasure of Public Worship. Ps. 84. 1-10
I. Watts L.M.
How pleasant, how divinely fair,
O Lord of Hosts, thy dwellings are!
With long desire my spirit faints,
To meet the assemblies of thy saints.
Blest are the saints who sit on high,
Around the throne of majesty;
Thy brightest glories shine above,
And all their work is praise and love.
Blest are the souls that 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.