|
|
| |
|
My soul forsakes her vain delight,
And bids the world farewell,
Base as the dirt beneath my feet,
And mischievous as hell.
No longer will I ask your love,
Nor seek your friendship more;
The happiness that I approve
Lies not within your power.
There's nothing round
this spacious earth
That suits my large desire
To boundless joy and solid mirth
My nobler thoughts aspire.
Oh, for the pinions of a dove
To mount the heav’nly road;
There shall I share my Savior’s love,
There shall I dwell with God.
[Where pleasure rolls its living flood,
From sin and dross refined,
Still springing from the throne of God,
And fit to cheer the mind;
Th' Almighty Ruler of the sphere,
The glorious and the great,
Brings his own all-sufficience there,
To make our bliss complete.]
Had I the pinions of a dove,
I'd climb the heav'nly road;
There sits my Savior dressed in love,
And there my smiling God.
|
marker 99
|
LYRICS
|
Meter:
|
8 6 8 6 (C.M.)
|
|
Writer(s):
|
|
|
Trans/Adapted:
|
| |
Dates:
|
|
|
Bible Refs:
|
|
LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
|
Hymn/Song Book
|
Year
|
Song #
|
| | # 10 |
MUSIC
|
Name:
|
LEANDER
|
|
Meter:
|
8 6 8 6 D (D.C.M.)
|
|
Writer(s):
|
|
|
Dates:
|
1818
|
echo ' | ';
|
Hymn Writer
