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1 Far from the world, O Lord, I flee;
From strife and tumult far;
From scenes where Satan wages still
His most successful war.
2 The calm retreat, the silent shade,
With prayer and praise agree;
And seem by Thy sweet bounty made
For those who follow Thee.
3 Then if Thy Spirit touch the soul,
And grace her mean abode,
Oh, with what peace, and joy, and love
Does she commune with God!
4 There, like the nightingale, she pours
Her solitary lays;
Nor asks a witness of her song,
Nor thirsts for human praise.
Text Information | |
---|---|
First Line: | Far from the world, O Lord, I flee |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1870 |
Topic: | Private Devotion |
Notes: | Author from index: Cowper |