1 Faint is my head and sick my heart,
While thou dost ever ever stay!
Fix in my soul I feel the dart;
Groaning I feel it night and day;
Come, Lord, and shew thyself to me,
Or take me up to thee!
2 Canst thou withhold thy healing grace,
So kindly lavish of thy blood;
When swiftly trickling down thy face,
For sin the purple current flow'd.
Come, Lord, and shew thyself to me,
Or take me up to thee!
3 O loose this frame, life's knot untie;
That my free soul may use her wing,
Now pinion'd with mortality,
A weak entangled wretched thing.
Come, Lord, and shew thyself to me,
Or take me up to thee!
4 Why should I longer stay and groan?
The most of me to heav'n is fled:
My thoughts and joys are thither gone;
To all below I now am dead.
Come, Lord, and shew thyself to me,
Or take me up to thee!
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Faint is my head and sick my heart |
Title: | The Christian longing to depart |
Refrain First Line: | Come, Lord, and shew thyself |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1783 |
Copyright: | Public Domain |
Notes: | Now Public Domain. For MOURNERS |