the absent communicant.
119
I sit to muse upon the past,
The hours for ever flown,
When through the sacred aisle I trod,
To bow within the house of God.
The hours for ever flown,
When through the sacred aisle I trod,
To bow within the house of God.
And as the weary hart doth pant,
For water-courses fair,
I long to reach the holy fane,
And pay my homage there,
And with God's people kneel me down,
Forgetting earthly care:
It may not be—my heart be still,
And bend thee to Jehovah's will.
For water-courses fair,
I long to reach the holy fane,
And pay my homage there,
And with God's people kneel me down,
Forgetting earthly care:
It may not be—my heart be still,
And bend thee to Jehovah's will.
Thou, who in desert mountains 1one,
Did'st hie where none might see,
To pour thy soul in secret prayer,
And bend the suppliant knee,
And ask thy Father's pardoning love
For guilty ones like me;—
Give me thy presence, though alone
I bow before thy glorious throne.
Did'st hie where none might see,
To pour thy soul in secret prayer,
And bend the suppliant knee,
And ask thy Father's pardoning love
For guilty ones like me;—
Give me thy presence, though alone
I bow before thy glorious throne.
