Far from my heavenly home

by Henry Francis Lyte

Far from my heavenly home,

Far from my Father's breast,

Fainting I cry, blest Spirit, come

And speed me to my rest.

My spirit homeward turns

And fain would thither flee;

My heart, O Zion, droops and yearns,

When I remember thee.

To thee, to thee I press,

A dark and toilsome road;

When shall I pass the wilderness,

And reach the saint's abode?

God of my life, be near;

On Thee my hopes I cast:

O guide me through the desert here,

And bring me home at last.