{
Far from My Heavenly Home
LYTE-John B. Wilkes
Far from My Heavenly Home
}
Far from my heavenly home,
Far from my Father's breast,
Fainting, I cry, "Blest Spirit, come,
And speed me to my rest."
Upon the willows long
My harp has silent hung;
How should I sing a cheerful song,
Till thou inspire my tongue?
My spirit homeward turns,
And fain would thither flee;
My heart, O Zion, droops and yearns,
When I remember thee.
God of my life, be near;
On thee my hopes I cast:
Oh, guide me through the desert here,
And bring me home at last!