1 Far from my thoughts, vain world, begone,
Let my religious hours alone:
Fain would my eyes my Saviour see;
I wait a visit, Lord, from Thee.

2 My heart grows warm with holy fire,
And kindles with a pure desire;
Come, my dear Jesus, from above,
And feed my soul with heavenly love.

3 Bless’d Jesus, what delicious fare!
How sweet Thine entertainments are!
Never did angels taste above
Redeeming grace and dying love.

4 Hail, great Immanuel, all divine!
In Thee Thy Father’s glories shine;
Thou brightest, sweetest, fairest One,
That eyes have seen, or angels known.