XLV. Leaving the World

1 Farewell vain World, I must be gone,
I have no Home or Stay in Thee;
I take my Staff, and travel on
Till I a better World can see.

2 Why art thou loth, my Heart, O why,
Dost thou recoil within my Breast?
Grieve not, but say, Farewell, and fly
Unto the Ark, my Dove, there's rest.

3 I came, my Lord, a Pilgrim's Pace;
Weary and weak, I slowly move;
Longing, but yet can't reach the Place,
The gladsome Place of Rest above.

4 I come, my Lord, the Floods here rise;
These troubled Seas Foam nought but mire;
My Dove back to my Bosom flies;
Farewell poor World, Heav'n's my desire.

5 Stay, stay, said Earth, whither fond one,
Here's a fair World, what would'st thou have
Fair World, O no! thy Beauty's gone,
A heav'nly Canaan, Lord, I crave.

6 Thus th' ancient Travellers, thus they,
Weary of Earth, groan'd after Thee,
They are before, I must not stay
Till I both thee and them may see.

7 Put on, my Soul, put on with speed,
Though th' Way be long, the End is sweet;
Once more, poor World, Farewell, indeed!
In leaving thee, my Lord I meet.

Text Information
First Line: Farewell vain World, I must be gone
Title: Leaving the World
Language: English
Publication Date: 1774
Tune Information
(No tune information)

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