1 WHERE is my God, my joy, my hope, The dear Desire of nations, where? Jesus, to Thee my soul looks up, To Thee directs her morning prayer, And spreads her arms of faith abroad, To’ embrace my hope, my joy, my God. 2 Mine eyes prevent the morning ray, Looking, and longing for Thy word: Come, O my Jesus, come away, And let my heart receive its Lord; Which pants, and struggles to be free, And breaks to be detain’d from Thee. 3 Appear in me, bright Morning