Oh, that I had the wings of a dove. James Smith, Good News for All, 1860.

Oh, that I had the wings of a dove, I would fly away and be at rest. Psalm 55, 6.

The trials of a believer are often severe. Many a storm has he to endure, many a river to ford, and many a fire to pass through, in his way home to the promised land. Little did the Christian think, when he first stepped into the liberty of the gospel, that there were such rough roads dark nights, and terrible storms before him, but more or less every traveler to Mount Zion must experience them. It is generally found to be a rough road which leads to the celestial city.

Many a Christian has found his courage fail him, and his heart misgive him on his way home. The darkness is sometimes so dense, the cross is at times so heavy, the disappointment is at some seasons so great, that the stoutest heart quails and unites with a timid spirit in exclaiming, O that I had the wings of a dove, I would fly away and be at rest.

These trials are necessary to try our sincerity, exercise our graces, and render the promises sweet and precious. When all goes smooth and everything is pleasant, we attach but little importance to the promises, have little power in prayer, and are too apt to overvalue ourselves. But trying times endear the throne of grace, strip us of pride and self-importance, and strengthen our trust in Jesus. Never is Christ so precious as in times of peculiar trial. Never is the Bible so valued as in the day of trouble and distress.

The wilderness, with its barren burning sands,
Its storms and tempests, its dangers and its difficulties,
Endears the promised land, and makes the pilgrim
Occasionally to cry out, O that I had the wings of a dove, I would fly away and be at rest.

Rest, O how sweet is the thought of rest,
To the weary, way-worn, exhausted traveller.
Rest, O how sweet is the thought of rest,
To the afflicted, tried, and tempted Christian,

He most generally thinks of heaven
As a place of rest.
Rest from suffering, rest from sorrow,
Rest from toil, and rest from conflict.
Rest with Jesus,
Rest, in the home of God!
Rest, perfect and perpetual rest!
Peaceful and glorious rest!

We have the foretastes of it occasionally now, which makes us at times long for its fullness and perfection, like the grapes of Aeschylus, which when tasted, stimulates us to hasten across the wilderness, that we may take possession of the promised land, so the inward calm
The secret repose, the rest at times enjoyed in the soul,
Urges us on, and makes us cry out, O, that I had the wings of a dove, I would fly away, and be at rest.