HYMN 11. (L. M.) The same.
[I send the joys of earth away]
I
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.
II
Your streams were floating me along
Down to the gulph of black despair,
And whilst I listen'd to your song,
Your streams had e'en convey'd me there.
III
Lord, I adore thy matchless grace,
That warn'd me of that dark abyss,
That drew me from those treacherous seas,
And bid me seek superior bliss.
IV
Now to the shining realms above
I stretch my hands, and glance mine eyes;
O for the pinions of a dove
To bear me to the upper skies.
V
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.
