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This world’s a dreary wilderness,
Where turbid waters flow;
No blooming flowers of paradise,
But thorns profusely grow.
We lose our friends, our wealth decays,
And life is full of pain;
For various good we wait and wish,
But wish and wait in vain.
Our hand outstretched to seize the prize,
The phantom flies away;
And leaves us to relentless grief,
An unexpected prey.
Jesus our Saviour, now to thee,
With hasty step we come;
Our only refuge here below,
And our eternal home.
‘Midst rising winds and beating storms,
Reclining on thy breast,
We find in thee a hiding place,
And here securely rest.
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marker 99
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LYRICS
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Meter:
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8 6 8 6 (C.M.)
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Writer(s):
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Trans/Adapted:
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Dates:
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1818
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Bible Refs:
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Ps 90:1;
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LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Year
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Song #
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| 1818 | # 100 |
MUSIC
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Name:
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FINGAL
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Meter:
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8 6 8 6 (C.M.)
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Writer(s):
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Dates:
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1885
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LIST OF MUSIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Song #
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Key
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| # 539 | D | | # 456 | Eb | | # 159 | Eb | | # 4 | Eb |
echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
