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O had I, my Saviour, the wings of a dove,
How soon would I soar to thy presence above!
How soon would I flee where the weary have rest,
And hide all my cares in thy sheltering breast.
Ah there the wild tempest for ever shall cease;
No billow shall ruffle that haven of peace;
Temptation and trouble alike shall depart,
All tears from the eye, and all sin from the heart.
Soon, soon may this Eden of promise be mine;
Rise, bright Sun of glory, no more to decline,
Thy light, yet unrisen, the wilderness cheers
O what will it be when the fulness appears.
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marker 99
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LYRICS
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Meter:
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11 11 11 11
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Writer(s):
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Trans/Adapted:
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Dates:
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1853
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Bible Refs:
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Ps 55;
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MUSIC
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Name:
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OLD 149TH
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Meter:
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11 11 11 11
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Writer(s):
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Dates:
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1853
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echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
