1 Return, my roving heart, return,
And chase these shadowy forms no more;
Seek out some solitude to mourn,
And thy forsaken God implore.

2 Wisdom and pleasure dwell at home;
Retired and silent, seek them there:
True conquest is ourselves t’o’ercome,
True strength to break the tempter’s snare.

3 And Thou, my God, whose piercing eye
Distinct surveys each deep recess,
In these abstracted hours draw nigh,
And with Thy presence fill the place.

4 Thro’ all the mazes of my heart,
My search let heav’nly wisdom guide,
And still its radiant beams impart,
Till all be searched, and purified.

5 Then with the visits of Thy love,
Vouchsafe my inmost soul to cheer;
Till every grace shall join to prove
That God hath fixed His dwelling there.