I THIRST, but not as once I did,
   The vain delights of earth to share;
Thy wounds, Emmanuel, all forbid
    That I should seek my pleasures there.
2  It was the sight of Thy dear cross
    First weaned my soul from earthly things;
And taught me to esteem as dross
    All worldly mirth, and pomp of kings.
3  I need that grace that springs from Thee,
    That quickens everywhere it flows,
And makes a desert thorn like me,
    Please as the myrtle or the rose.
4  For of the plants around that share
    The notice of Thy gracious eye,
None is less grateful of Thy care,
    Or yields Thee meaner fruit than I.
5  Dear Fountain of delights unknown,
    I would forsake this meaner part;
Come, overflow, on me come down,
    Life-giving stream, O fill my heart.
William Cowper, 1731-1800‡