M0:|t:EWS 18 How lovely, how divinely sweet|h:Thomas Thorley|c:G|m:4/4|a:Anne Steele (1717-1778)|r:L.M.
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E1:How love_ly, how di_vine_ly sweet,/O Lord, Thy sac_red courts ap_pear!/Fain would my long_ing pas_sions meet/The glo_ries of Thy pre_sence there.
E2:Oh, blest the men, blest their em_ploy,/Whom Thine in_dul_gent fa_vors raise/To dwell in those a_bodes of joy,/And sing Thy ne_ver-_ceas_ing praise.
E3:God is a sun; our brigh_test day/From His re_vi_ving pre_sence flows;/God is a shield through all the way,/To guard us from sur_round_ing foes.
E4:O Lord of hosts, Thou God of grace,/How blest, di_vine_ly blest, is he,/Who trust Thy love and seeks Thy face,/And fix_es all his hopes on Thee!
E5:Hap_py the men whom strength di_vine/With ar_dent love and zeal ins_pires;/Whose steps to Thy blest way in_cline/With wil_ling hearts and warm de_sires.
E6:One day with_in Thy sac_red gate,/Af_fords _more real joy to me/Than thous_ands in the tents of state;/The mean_est place is bliss with Thee.
