Away from earth my spirit turns—

Away from every transient good:

With strong desire my bosom burns

To feast on heaven’s diviner food.

2 Thou, Saviour, art the living bread;

Thou wilt my every want supply;

By thee sustained, and cheered, and led,

I’ll press through dangers to the sky.

3 What though temptations oft distress,

And sin assails, and breaks my peace;

Thou wilt uphold, and save, and bless,

And bid the storms of passion cease.

4 Then let me take thy gracious hand,

And walk beside thee onward still;

Till my glad feet shall safely stand

Forever firm on Zion’s hill.