His are the Thousand Sparkling Rills by Cecil Francis Alexander, 1875 ISLEWORTH—Samuel Howard His are the Thousand Sparkling Rills 1 His Are the thousand sparkling rills That from a thousand fountains burst, And fill with music all the hills; And yet he saith, “I thirst.” 2 All fiery pangs on battlefields; On fever beds where sick men toss, Are in that human cry he yields To anguish on the cross. 3 But more than pains that racked him then, Was the deep longing thirst divine That thirsted