Blest Jesus, source of grace divine,
What soul-refreshing streams are Thine,
O bring these healing waters nigh,
Or we must droop, and fall, and die.

No traveler through desert lands,
’Midst scorching suns and burning sands,
More needs the current to obtain,
Or to enjoy refreshing rain.

Our longing souls aloud would sing,
Spring up, celestial fountain, spring;
To an abundant river flow,
And cheer this thirsty land below.

May this blest river near my side
Through all the desert gently glide;
Then in Immanuel’s land above,
Spread to a sea of joy and love.