The Desponding Soul’s Wish

My spirit longeth for Thee,
Within my troubled breast,
Although I be unworthy
Of so Divine a Guest.

Of so Divine a Guest
Unworthy though I be,
Yet has my heart no rest,
Unless it comes from Thee.

Unless it comes from Thee,
In vain I look around;
In all that I can see
No rest is to be found.

No rest is to be found
But in thy blessèd love:
Oh, let my wish be crowned,
And send it from above.