Like Noah’s Weary Dove

Like Noah’s wea­ry dove

That soared the earth around

But not a rest­ing place ab­ove

The cheer­less wa­ters found—

O cease

my wan­der­ing soul

On rest­less wing to roam;

All the wide world

to ei­ther pole

Has not for thee a home.

Behold the ark of God.

Behold the op­en door;

Hasten to gain that dear ab­ode

And rove

my soul

no more.

There

safe shalt thou ab­ide

There sweet shall be thy rest

And ev­ery long­ing sa­tis­fied

With full sal­va­tion blessed.

Ah

yes! I all for­sake

My all to Thee re­sign;

Gracious Re­deem­er

take

O take

And seal me ev­er Thine.