Chorale Book for England

Lord, all my heart is fix'd on Thee,

I pray Thee, be not far from me,

With tender grace uphold me.

The whole wide world delights me not,

Of heaven or earth, Lord, ask I not,

If but Thy love enfold me.

Yea, though my heart be like to break,

Thou art my trust that nought can shake,

My portion and my hidden joy,

Whose cross could all my bonds destroy;

Lord Jesus Christ!

My God and Lord! My God and Lord!

Forsake me not who trust Thy word!

Rich are Thy gifts! 'Twas God that gave

Body and soul, and all I have

In this poor life of labour;

Oh grant that I may through Thy grace

We all my powers to show Thy praise,

And serve and help my neighbour;

From all false doctrine keep me, Lord;

All lies and malice from me ward;

In every cross uphold Thou me,

That I may beir it patiently;

Lord Jesus Christ!

My God and Lord! My God and Lord!

In death Thy comfort still afford.

Ah Lord, let Thy dear angels come

At my last end, to bear me home,

That I may die unfearing;

And in its narrow chamber keep

My body safe in painless sleep

Until my Lord's appearing;

And then from death awaken me,

That there mine eyes with joy may see,

O Son of God, Thy glorious face,

My Saviour, and my Fount of Grace!

Lord Jesus Christ!

Receive my prayer, receive my prayer,

Thy love will I for aye declare.