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Never were the beaten sail
More willing bent to shore
Never tired pilgrim's limbs
Affected slumber more
Than my weary sprite now longs to fly
Out of my troubled breast
O come quickly, O come quickly, O come quickly, sweetest Lord
And take my soul to rest
Than my weary sprite now longs to fly
Out of my troubled breast
O come quickly, O come quickly, O come quickly, sweetest Lord
And take my soul to rest
Ever blooming are the joys
Of heaven's high paradise
Cold age deafs not there our ears
Nor labour dims our eyes
Glory there the sun outshines
Whose beams the blessed only see
O come quickly, O come quickly, O come quickly, glorious Lord
And raise my sprite to thee
Glory there the sun outshines
Whose beams the blessed only see
O come quickly, O come quickly, O come quickly, glorious Lord
And raise my sprite to thee