1 Far from my thoughts, vain world, begone;
Let my religious hours alone;
From flesh and sense I would be free,
And hold communion, Lord, with Thee.
2 My heart grows warm with holy fire,
And kindles with a pure desire
To see Thy grace, to taste Thy love,
And feel Thine influence from above.
3 When I can say that God is mine,
When I can see Thy glories shine,
I'll tread the world beneath my feet,
And all that men call rich and great.
4 Send comfort down from Thy right hand,
To cheer me in this barren land;
And in thy temple let me know
The joys that from Thy presence flow.