On the Death of Thomas Beard, Hymn 12

Lovely Lamb, I come to Thee,
Thou hast oft invited me;
Surely now I would be blest,
Give me now the promised rest.

All my business and concern
Is of Thee, my Lamb, to learn;
Show me Thy first lesson show,
Now alas! I nothing know.

Gentle Thou, and meek in heart,
All humility Thou art;
Full of wrath, and pride I am,
How unlike my lowly Lamb!

But Thou canst my soul transform,
Humble an aspiring worm,
My unbroken spirit break,
Make the angry leopard meek.

Thou art greater than my heart,
Thou canst make me as Thou art,
Sink the proud, and tame the wild,
Change me to a little child.

Turn me, Lord, and turn me now,
To Thy yoke my spirit bow;
Grant me now the pearl to find
Of a meek and quiet mind.

Calm, O calm my troubled breast,
Let me gain that second rest,
From my works for ever cease,
Perfected in holiness.

Soon, or later then remove,
Take me to my rest above:
All 's alike to me, so I
In my Lord may live, and die.