John Newton & William Cowper · 290 of 356
45. Far from the world, O Lord, I flee
Hymn 45
Far from the world, O Lord, I flee, From strife and tumult far; From scenes, where Satan wages still, His most successful war.
The calm retreat, the silent shade, With prayer and praise agree; And seem, by thy sweet bounty made, For those who follow thee.
There if thy Spirit touch the soul, And her mean abode; Oh with what peace, and joy, and love, She communes with her God!
There like the nightingale she pours Her solitary lays, Nor asks a witness of her song, Nor thirsts for human praise.
Author and Guardian of my life, Sweet source of light divine; And (all harmonious names in one) My Savior, thou art mine!
What thanks I owe thee, and what love, A boundless, endless store; Shall echo through the realms above, When time shall be no more.