Charles H. Spurgeon on Psalms 90:10

We fly away.

Bird of my breast, away!

The long wished hour is come.

On to the realms of cloudless day,

On to thy glorious home!

Long has been thine to mourn

In banishment and pain.

Return, thou wandering dove, return,

And find thy ark again!

Away, on joyous wing,

Immensity to range;

Around the throne to soar and sing,

And faith for sight exchange.

Flee, then, from sin and woe,

To joys immortal flee;

Quit thy dark prison house below,

And be for ever free!

I come, ye blessed throng,

Your tasks and joys to share;

O, fill my lips with holy song,

My drooping wing upbear. —Henry Francis Lyte, 1793-1847.