I.LV. My Beloved! haste away

1 My Beloved! haste away,
Sick of Love, for thee I languish;
Fails my Soul at thy Delay,
Feels a dying Lover's Anguish:
Quickly, quickly, Jesus come,
O make my Breast thy native Home.

2 Ev'ry Moment seems an Age,
'Till thy Presence shall relive me,
'Till thy Smiles my Woes assuage,
And thine Absence no more grieve me:
Quickly, quickly, Jesus come,
O make my Breast thy native Home.

3 Great the Force and Power of Live,
Whence springs all my strong Desires;
I, thy Presence, Lord, to prove,
Burn, consum'd, with inward Fires:
Quickly, quickly, Jesus come,
O make my Breast thy native Home.

4 Honour, Wealth, and Ease I scorn,
Trifles by the World approv'd;
To superior Joys I'm born,
Cent'ring in my Well-belov'd:
Quickly, quickly, Jesus come,
O make my Breast thy native Home.

5 O'er the spicy Mountains fly
Hart and Roe, yea Winds out-stripping;
Whilst thou tarry'st, Love, I die,
Sighing, longing, loving, weeping;
Quickly, quickly, Jesus come,
O make my Breast thy native Home.

Text Information
First Line: My Beloved! haste away
Language: English
Publication Date: 1776
Scripture:
Tune Information
(No tune information)



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