CXI.
[Weary, why should I farther go]
Weary, why should I farther go,
Or seek a resting-place below
With vain anxiety?
Without the presence of my Lord,
This earth can no repose afford,
Or glimpse of joy for me.
Weeping where'er mine eye I turn,
Fresh cause to weep, lament, and mourn
Mine eye with horror sees;
Nothing but sin and pain appears
In all the dreary vale of tears,
The frightful wilderness.
My paradise is lost and gone,
Distress'd, disconsolate, alone,
A banish'd man I rove,
I faint beneath my nature's load,
An alien from the life of God,
A stranger to His love.
What then is change of place to me?
The end of sin and misery,
In every place is nigh;
No spot of earth but yields a grave:
Where'er He wills, if Jesus save,
I lay me down and die.
