As Israel never thirsted

While the Lord alone did lead,

So thousands have borne witness

That His fullness met their need.

They thirsted not for pardon

When He led them to His blood,

They knew they were forgiven

When He showed the crimson flood.

They thirsted not for pleasure

When He whispered, “Ye are mine.”

A fount of joy sprang upward

As they answered, “We are thine;”

They thirsted not for feeling,

When He would lead by faith;

No sign or prop upholding,

But the trusty staff, “He saith.”

They thirsted not for knowledge

While sitting at His feet,

For all their hardest questions

He could silence or could meet.

They thirsted not for honor,

Hidden low behind their Lord.

To hear Him say, “My servant,”

Gave them rank, and full reward.

They thirsted not for friendship

In a solitary way,

For oft His steps showed clearer

Where none other passed that day.

They thirsted not for quiet

If He led them through the crowd;

His well-known voice could reach them

Amid confusion loud.

They thirsted not for money,

Their heritage was sure—

Here daily bread, hereafter

All treasures that endure.

They thirsted for no blessing

That His hand did not outpour,

But longed for hearts made larger

To take His boundless store.

— The Parish Visitor