1. The Saint amid this stormy world,
Is like the flutter’d dove,
And fain would be as swift of wing,
To flee to Him we love.
2. The cords that bound our hearts to earth
Are loos’d by Jesus’ hand,
Before His cross we now are left,
As strangers in the land.
3. That visage marr’d, those sorrows deep,
The thorns, the scourge, the gall,
These were the golden chains of love,
His captives to enthral.
4. Our hearts are with Him on the throne,
And ill can brook delay,
Each moment longing for that word,
“Rise up and come away.”