| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
400 The Book of Praise. |
||
|
CCCLXXIV.
Go up, go up, my heart,
Dwell with thy God above ; For here thou canst not rest,
Nor here give out thy love.
Go up, go up, my heart,
Be not a trirler here ; Ascend above these clouds,
Dwell in a higher sphere.
Let not thy love flow out To things so soiled and dim ;
Go up to Heaven and God, Take up thy love to Him.
Waste not thy precious stores
On creature-love below; To God that wealth belongs,
On Him that wealth bestow.
Go up, reluctant heart,
Take up thy rest above ; Arise, earth-clinging thoughts ;
Ascend, my lingering love !
Horatius Bonar. 1856. |
||
|
CCCLXXV.
My soul, amid this stormy world, Is like some flutter1 d dove,
And fain would be as swift of wing To flee to Him I love. |
||