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.
