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NEVER WEATHER-BEATEN SAILE
(Thomas Campion)

Never weather-beaten saile, more willing bent to shore
Never weary pilgrims' limbs affected slumber more,
Than my weary sprite now longs to fly out of my troubled breast;
Oh, come quickly, Oh, come quickly, Oh, come quickly, Glorious Lord,
And take my soule to rest.
Oh, come quickly, Oh, come quickly, Oh, come quickly, Glorious Lord,
And take my soule to rest.

Ever blooming are the joyes, of heaven's high paradise;
Cold age deafs not there our ears, nor vapour dims our eyes;
Glory there the sun outshines, whose beams the blessed only see;
Oh, come quickly, Oh, come quickly, Oh, come quickly, Glorious Lord,
And raise my sprite to thee;
Oh, come quickly, Oh, come quickly, Oh, come quickly, Glorious Lord,
And raise my sprite to thee;

[tune: Never weather-beaten saile]
Written by Thomas Campion, about 1603. Popular as a hymn well into
the 18th century.
@religion @English
filename[ NWBS
WBO
oct97

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