Far from my heavenly home,
Far from my Father-s breast,
Fainting I cry, blest Spirit, come
And speed me to my rest.
My spirit homeward turns
And fain would thither flee;
My heart, O Zion, droops and yearns,
When I remember thee.
To thee, to thee I press,
A dark and toilsome road;
When shall I pass the wilderness,
And reach the saint-s abode?
God of my life, be near;
On Thee my hopes I cast:
O guide me through the desert here,
And bring me home at last.
Far From My Heavenly Home
Henry Francis Lyte
(1)
Poem topics: dark, father, god, heart, life, remember, guide, bring, speed, reach, desert, saint, home, spirit, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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