Jesu, the Strength of all that faint,

When wilt Thou hear my sad complaint?

Jesu, the weary wanderer’s Rest,

When wilt Thou take me to Thy breast?

My spirit mourns, by Thee forgot,

And droops my heart, where Thou art not:

My soul is all an aching void,

And pines, and thirsts, and gasps for God.

The pain of absence still I prove,

Sick of desire, but not of love:

Weary of life, I ever groan,

I long to lay the burden down.

’Tis burden all, and pain, and strife

O, give me love, and take my life!

Jesu, my only want supply;

O, let me taste Thy love, and die!