HIS ARE THE THOUSAND SPARKLING RILLS
His are the thousand sparkling rills
That from a thousand fountains burst,
And fill with music all the hills;
And yet he saith, “I thirst.“
All fiery pangs on battlefields,
On fever beds where sick men toss,
Are in that human cry he yields
To anguish on the cross.
But more than pains that racked him then
Was the deep longing thirst divine
That thirsted for the souls of men;
Dear Lord! and one was mine.
O love most patient, give me grace;
Make all my soul athirst for thee;
That parched dry lip, that fading face,
That thirst, were all for me.
Support Mysongbooks
Support us by joining the Buy Me A Coffee community and making a small donation, you can help us expand our library and ensure that music lovers everywhere can enjoy their favorite songs to the fullest. We're passionate about music, and we know you are too, so let's work together to keep the music alive.
Thank you for being a part of our community and supporting our mission to provide the best lyrics library on the internet.