This is something between an original and an arrangement — I could hardly say I was going to improve on the Thomas Campion original (though, hey, at least there’s already something of a tradition of re using his words!) And also I was reading the words along with the music as I was coming up with my own tune… So this has some of the original tune along with some new/’updated’, I guess, bits.
Never weather-beaten sail
More willing bent to shore
Never tired 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 sweetest Lord
And take my soul to restEver blooming are the joys
Of heav’ns 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
* the edition I had said cold age, I kid you not.