HEAVENWARD. Rwy'n morio tua chartre'm Nêr 8,6,8,6 Toward heaven, my Father's home, I steer, Tossed on the billowy flood: A man that hath no purpose here Save seeking for his God. Let me not swerve to right or left, Or of thy guidance tire; Kept in the course that heavenward leads, Through gulphs of flood and fire. Opposing tempests beat me back, And I have strength no more; O take me, Jesus, in thine arms, And bear to yonder shore. |