Where shall I lay my weary head?

Where shall I hide me from my shame?

From all I feel, and all I dread,

And all I have, and all I am!

Swift to outstrip the stormy wind,

And leave this cursed self behind.

O the intolerable load

Of nature, waken’d to pursue

The footsteps of a distant God,

Till faith hath form’d the soul anew!

’Tis death, ’tis more than death to bear—

I cannot live, till God is here.

Give me Thy wings, celestial Dove,

And help me from myself to fly;

Then shall my soul far off remove,

The tempest’s idle rage defy,

From sin, from sorrow, and from strife

Escaped, and hid in Christ, my Life.

Stranger on earth, I sojourn here:

Yet, O, on earth I cannot rest,

Till Thou, my hidden Life, appear,

And sweetly take me to Thy breast:

To Thee my wishes all aspire,

And sighs for Thee my whole desire.

Search and try out my panting heart:

Surely, my Lord, it pants for Thee,

Jealous lest earth should claim a part:

Thine, wholly Thine, I gasp to be.

Thou know’st ’tis all I live to prove

Thou know’st I only want Thy love.