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God the Holy Ghost. 115
When we cleave to earthly things,
Send Thy reviving grace ; Raise our souls, and give them wings,
To reach Thy holy place !
William Hi ley Bathurst. 1831,
cm.
There is a River, deep and broad,
Its course no mortal knows ; It fills with joy the Church of God,
And widens as it flows.
Clearer than crystal is the stream,
And bright with endless day ; The waves with every blessing teem,
And life and health convey.
Where'er they flow, contentions cease,
And love and meekness reign ; The Lord Himself commands the peace,
And foes conspire in vain.
Along the shores, angelic bands
Watch every moving wave ; With holy joy their breast expands,
When men the waters crave.
To them distressed souls repair,
The Lord invites them nigh ; They leave their cares and sorrows there,
They drink, and never die.
Flow on, sweet Stream, more largely flow,
The earth with glory fill; Flow on, till all the Saviour know, And all obey His will.
William Hum. 1813. 1 1 |
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