|Ho! ye that thirst! approach the spring|
Where living waters flow;
Free to that sacred Fountain all
Without a price may go.
How long to streams of false delight
Will ye in crowds repair?
How long your strength and substance waste
On trifles light as air?
My stores afford those rich supplies
That health and pleasure give:
Incline your ear and come to Me;
The soul that hears shall live.
With you a covenant I will make,
That ever shall endure,
That hope which gladdened David's heart
My mercy hath made sure.