_Ark of Salvation._
Like Noah's weary dove
That soared the earth around,
But not a resting place above
The cheerless waters found,
2 Oh, cease, my wandering soul,
On restless wing to roam;
All the wide world, to either pole,
Has not for thee a home.
3 Behold the ark of God,
Behold the open door;
Hasten to gain that dear abode,
And rove, my soul, no more.
4 There safe thou shalt abide,
There sweet shall be thy rest,
And every longing satisfied,
With full salvation blessed.
Wm. A. Muhlenberg.