1 The bird let loose in eastern skies,
Returning fondly home,
Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies
Where idle warblers roam.
2 But high she shoots, through air and light,
Above all low delay,
Where nothing earthly bounds her flight,
Nor shadow dims her way.
3 So grant me, Lord, from every snare
Of sinful passion free,
Aloft, through faith's serener air,
To hold my course to thee.
4 No sin to cloud, no lure to stay
My soul, as home she springs,
Thy sunshine on her joyful way,
Thy freedom in her wings.
Source: The Voice of Praise: a collection of hymns for the use of the Methodist Church #689