242. Longing for Rest

1 O had I, my Saviour, the wings of a dove,
How soon would I soar to Thy presence above;
How soon would I flee where the weary have rest,
And hide all my cares in Thy sheltering breast.

2 I flutter, I struggle, I pant to get free;
I feel me a captive while banished from Thee:
A pilgrim and stranger, the desert I roam,
And look on to heaven, and long to be home.

Text Information
First Line: O had I, my Saviour, the wings of a dove
Title: Longing for Rest
Author: Rev. Henry Francis Tyte
Language: English
Publication Date: 1895
Tune Information
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