1 I send the joys of earth away;
Away, ye tempters of the mind,
False as the smooth, deceitful sea,
And empty as the whistling wind.

2 Your streams were floating me along
Down the gulf of dark despair;
And while I listen'd to your song
Your streams had e’en convey'd me there.

3 Now to the shining realms above
I stretch my hands and glance my eyes;
Oh! for the pinions of a dove
To bear me to the upper skies.

4 There, from the bosom of my God,
Oceans of endless pleasure roll;
There would I fix my last abode,
And drown the sorrows of my soul.