“In returning and rest shall ye be saved.” Isa. 30. 15
H. Fowler S.M.
1
Return, my wandering heart,
To thy dear resting-place;
Nothing in nature, nor in art,
So fair as Jesus’ face.
2
A proud and wandering heart,
A bold, rebellious will,
Severely make me daily smart,
And oft my comforts kill.
3
When night’s dim shade I feel,
I sigh, I mourn, I groan;
Do thou, dear Lord, thy face reveal;
Ah, leave me not alone.
4
Sweet Comforter, descend,
And lead me to the Lamb;
My absent, present, precious Friend!
Eternally the same.
