How lovely are thy dwellings fair! <br />O Lord of Hoasts, how dear <br />The pleasant Tabernacles are! <br />Where thou do'st dwell so near. <br />My Soul doth long and almost die <br />Thy Courts O Lord to see, <br />My heart and flesh aloud do crie, <br />O living God, for thee. <br />There ev'n the Sparrow freed from wrong <br />Hath found a house of rest, <br />The Swallow there, to lay her young <br />Hath built her brooding nest, <br />Ev'n by thy Altars Lord of Hoasts <br />They find their safe abode, <br />And home they fly from round the Coasts <br />Toward thee, My King, my God <br />Happy, who in thy house reside <br />Where thee they ever praise, <br />Happy, whose strength in thee doth bide, <br />And in their hearts thy waies. <br />They pass through Baca's thirstie Vale, <br />That dry and barren ground <br />As through a fruitfull watry Dale <br />Where Springs and Showrs abound. <br />They journey on from strength to strength <br />With joy and gladsom cheer <br />Till all before our God at length <br />In Sion do appear. <br />Lord God of Hoasts hear now my praier <br />O Jacobs God give ear, <br />Thou God our shield look on the face <br />Of thy anointed dear. <br />For one day in thy Courts to be <br />Is better, and mere blest <br />Then in the joyes of Vanity, <br />A thousand daies at best. <br />I in the temple of my God <br />Had rather keep a dore, <br />Then dwell in Tents, and rich abode <br />With Sin for evermore <br />For God the Lord both Sun and Shield <br />Gives grace and glory bright, <br />No good from him shall be with-held <br />Whose waies are just and right. <br />Lord God of Hoasts that raign 'st on high, <br />That man is truly blest <br />Who only on thee doth relie. <br />And in thee only rest.<br /><br />John Milton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/psalm-84/
