218. The Spirit's Farewel to the Body

1 How am I held a prisoner now,
Far from my God! this mortal chain
Binds me to sorrow; all below
Is short-liv'd ease, or tiresome pain.

2 When shall that wond'rous hour appear,
Which frees me from this dark abode,
To live at large in regions, where
No cloud nor veil shall hid my God?

3 Farewel this flesh, these ears, these eyes,
These snares and fetters of the mind;
My God! nor let this frame arise,
Till every dust be will refin'd.

4 Jesus, who mak'st our natures whole,
Mould me a body like thy own:
Then shall it better serve my soul
In works of praise and worlds unknown.

Text Information
First Line: How am I held a prisoner now
Title: The Spirit's Farewel to the Body
Language: English
Publication Date: 1803
Tune Information
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