1
How lovely, Lord, how lovely is your abiding place;
my soul is longing, fainting, to feast upon your
grace.
The sparrow finds a shelter, a place to build her
nest,
and so your temple calls us within its walls to rest.

2
In your blest courts to worship, O God, a single day
is better than a thousand if I from you should stray.
I’d rather keep the entrance and claim you as my
Lord
than revel in the riches the ways of sin afford.

3
A sun and shield forever are you, O Lord Most High;
you shower us with blessings; no good will you
deny.
The saints, your grace receiving, from strength to
strength shall go,
and from their life shall rivers of blessing overflow.