 | The Literary Works of James Smetham |  |
THE SINGLE WISH
One thing, O Lord, do I desire,
Withhold not Thou the wish from me,
Which warms me like a secret fire,
That I, Thy child, may dwell with Thee!
Withhold not Thou the wish from me,
Which warms me like a secret fire,
That I, Thy child, may dwell with Thee!
Dwell in Thy house for evermore,
Thy wondrous beauty to behold,
And make inquiry as of yore,
Till all Thy will to me is told.
Thy wondrous beauty to behold,
And make inquiry as of yore,
Till all Thy will to me is told.
In this pavilion have I hid,
These many years when hurt by sin,
Or by my angry sorrows chid,
Or deaf with life's unceasing din.
These many years when hurt by sin,
Or by my angry sorrows chid,
Or deaf with life's unceasing din.
Blown hither by the blasts of fear,
Or stooping with the weight of care,
My feet have hastened year on year,
With psalm of praise or sigh of prayer.
Or stooping with the weight of care,
My feet have hastened year on year,
With psalm of praise or sigh of prayer.
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Fear tells my heart that I may be
Some day an alien from Thy door,
May cease Thy lovely face to see,
And hear Thy whispers nevermore!
Some day an alien from Thy door,
May cease Thy lovely face to see,
And hear Thy whispers nevermore!
This woe hath not befallen yet:
Shall it, O Rock of Strength, befal?
Then were my sun for ever set,
And dropped in that abyss my all!
Shall it, O Rock of Strength, befal?
Then were my sun for ever set,
And dropped in that abyss my all!
Tell me this hour shall never come;
Plant me so deep Thy Courts among
That I may have my final home,
And end where I began my song!
Plant me so deep Thy Courts among
That I may have my final home,
And end where I began my song!
Nov. 3, 1868.
| The Literary Works of James Smetham | |