XXIX. The Christian longing to depart

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
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: For MOURNERS
Tune Information
(No tune information)



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