Had I your wings, to heaven I’d fly,
But God shall that defect supply,
And my soul winged with warm desire,
Shall all day long to heaven aspire.
I would not wake, nor rise again,
Even heaven itself I would disdain;
Wert not Thou there to be enjoyed,
And I in hymns to be employed.
Heaven is, dear Lord, where’er Thou art,
O never then from me depart;