2 Oh, grant that nothing in my soul
May dwell, but Thy pure love alone;
Oh, may Thy love possess me whole,
My joy, my treasure, and my crown;
Strange fires far from my soul remove;
My every act, word, thought, be love.
3 O love, how cheering is thy ray!
All pain before thy presence flies;
Care, anguish, sorrow, melt away,
Where'er thy healing beams arise.
O Jesus, nothing may I see,
Nothing desire or seek, but Thee.
4 Still let Thy love point out my way;
What wondrous things Thy love hath
Still lead me, lest I go astray; [wrought!
Direct my word, inspire my thought;
And if I fall, soon may I hear
Thy voice, and know that love is near.
5 In suffering, be Thy love my peace;
In weakness, be Thy love my power; And when the storms of life shall cease, Jesus, in that dark final hour
Of death, be Thou my guide, and friend,
That I may love Thee without end.
Tr. J. Wesley: verse 3, l. 6, alt.
THEE will I love, my strength, my tower; Thee will I love, my joy, my crown; Thee will I love with all my power,
In all Thy works, and Thee alone; Thee will I love till sacred fire
Fills my whole soul with chaste desire.
2 I thank Thee, uncreated Sun,
That Thy bright beams on me have shined:
I thank Thee, who hast overthrown
My foes, and healed my wounded mind;
I thank Thee, whose enlivening voice
Bids my freed heart in Thee rejoice.
3 Uphold me in the doubtful race,
Nor suffer me again to stray;
Strengthen my feet, with steady pace
Still to press forward in Thy way;
That all my powers, with all their might,
In Thy sole glory may unite.
4 Thee will I love, my joy, my crown;
Thee will I love, my Lord, my God;
Thee will I love, beneath Thy frown
Or smile, Thy sceptre or Thy rod;
What though my flesh and heart decay?
Thee shall I love in endless day.
J. Scheffler. Tr. J. Wesley.
JESUS, my Lord, my God, my all,
Hear me, blest Saviour, when I call;
Hear me, and from Thy dwelling-place
Pour down the riches of Thy grace,
Jesus, my Lord, I Thee adore:
Oh, make me love Thee more and more.
2 Jesus, too late I Thee have sought:
How can I love Thee as I ought?
And how extol Thy matchless fame,
The glorious beauty of Thy name?
Jesus, my Lord, I Thee adore :
Oh, make me love Thee more and more.
3 Jesus, what didst Thou find in me,
That Thou hast dealt so lovingly?
How great the joy that Thou hast brought,
So far exceeding hope or thought.
Jesus, my Lord, I Thee adore:
Oh, make me love Thee more and more.
4 Jesus, of Thee shall be my song,
To Thee my heart and soul belong :
All that I have or am is Thine,
And Thou, blest Saviour, Thou art mine.
Jesus, my Lord, I Thee adore :
Oh, make me love Thee more and more. H. Collins.
BEHOLD the throne of grace!
The promise calls me near;
There Jesus shows a smiling face,
And waits to answer prayer.
2 My soul, ask what thou wilt,
Thou canst not be too bold;
Since His own blood for thee He spilt,
What else can He withhold?
3 Thine image, Lord, bestow,
Thy presence and Thy love;
I ask to serve Thee here below,
And reign with Thee above.
4 Teach me to live by faith;
Conform my will to Thine;
Let me victorious be in death,
And then in glory shine.
COME, my soul, thy suit prepare,
Jesus loves to answer prayer;
He Himself has bid thee pray,
Therefore will not say thee nay.
2 With my burden I begin:
Lord, remove this load of sin;
Let Thy blood, for sinners spilt,
Set my conscience free from guilt.
3 Lord, I come to Thee for rest, Take possession of my breast,
There Thy blood-bought right maintain
And without a rival reign.
4 While I am a pilgrim here,
Let Thy love my spirit cheer;
As my guide, my guard, my friend,
Lead me to my journey's end.
5 Show me what I have to do,
Every hour my strength renew;
Let me live a life of faith,
Let me die Thy people's death.
JESUS, merciful and mild,
Lead me as a helpless child :
On no other arm but Thine
Would my weary soul recline.
Thou art ready to forgive,
Thou canst bid the sinner live;
Guide the wand'rer, day by day,
In the strait and narrow way.
2 Thou canst fit me by Thy grace
For the heavenly dwelling-place ;
All Thy promises are sure,
Ever shall Thy love endure;
Then what more can I desire,
How to greater bliss aspire?
All I need, in Thee I see;
Thou art all in all to me.
3 Jesus, Saviour all divine,
Thou has made me truly Thine;
Thou has bought me by Thy blood;
Reconciled my heart to God.
Hearken to my humble prayer,
Let me Thine own image bear,
Let me love Thee more and more,
Till I reach heaven's blissful shore.
T. Hastings.
PRAYER is the soul's sincere desire,
Uttered or unexpressed;
The motion of a hidden fire
That trembles in the breast.
2 Prayer is the burden of a sigh,
The falling of a tear,
The upward glancing of the eye,
When none but God is near.
3 Prayer is the simplest form of speech That infant lips can try;
Prayer the sublimest strains that reach
The Majesty on High.
4 Prayer is the contrite sinner's voice,
Returning from his ways;
While angels in their songs rejoice,
And cry, "Behold, he prays!"
5 Prayer is the Christian's vital breath,
The Christian's native air;
His watchword at the gates of death:
He enters Heaven with prayer.
6 O Thou, by whom we come to God,
The life, the truth, the way!
The path of prayer Thyself hast trod;
Lord, teach us how to pray.
J. Montgomery.
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