The Saviour hides His face; <br />My spirit thirsts to prove <br />Renew'd supplies of pardoning grace, <br />And never-fading love. <br /> <br />The favor'd souls who know <br />What glories shine in Him, <br />Pant for His presence as the roe <br />Pants for the living stream. <br /> <br />What trifles tease me now! <br />They swarm like summer flies! <br />They cleave to everything I do, <br />And swim before my eyes. <br /> <br />How dull the Sabbath day, <br />Without the Sabbath's Lord! <br />How toilsome then to sing and pray, <br />And wait upon the Word! <br /> <br />Of all the truths I hear, <br />How few delight my taste! <br />I glean a berry here and there, <br />But mourn the vintage past. <br /> <br />Yet let me (as I ought) <br />Still hope to be supplied; <br />No pleasure else is worth a thought, <br />Nor shall I be denied. <br /> <br />Though I am but a worm, <br />Unworthy of His care, <br />The Lord will my desire perform, <br />And grant me all my prayer.<br /><br />William Cowper<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/olney-hymn-41-mourning-and-longing/
