1 My God, if I may call thee mine,
From heaven and thee removed so far,
Draw nigh; thy pitying ear incline,
And cast not out my languid prayer.

2 Gently the weak thou lov'st to lead,
Thou lov'st to prop the feeble knee;
O break not then a bruised reed,
Nor quench the smoking, flax in me!

3 Buried in sin, thy voice I hear,
And burst the barriers of my tomb,
In all the marks of death appear,
Forth at thy call, though bound I come.

4 Give me, O give me fully, Lord,
Thy resurrection's power to know;
Free me indeed, repeat the word,
And loose my bands, and let me go.

5 Fain would I go to thee, my God,
Thy mercies and my wants to tell;
To feel my pardon sealed in blood,
Saviour, thy love I wait to feel.

6 Freed from the power of cancelled sin,
When shall my soul triumphant prove?
Why breaks not out the fire within
In flames of joy, and praise, and love?

7 Jesus, to thee my soul aspires;
Jesus, to thee I plight my vows;
Keep me from earthly, base desires,
My God, my Saviour, and my Spouse.

8 Fountain of all-sufficient bliss,
Thou art the good I seek below,
Fulness of joy in thee there is,
Without, -'tis misery all, and woe.