On the Death of Thomas Beard, Hymn 14

Jesu, cast a pitying eye,
Humbled at Thy feet I lie,
Fain within Thy arms would rest,
Fain would lean upon Thy breast;
Thrust my hand into Thy side,
Always in the cleft abide,
Never from Thy wounds depart,
Never leave Thy bleeding heart.

Surely I have pardon found,
Grace doth more than sin abound,
God, I know, is pacified,
Thou for me, for me hast died:
But I cannot rest herein,
All my nature still is sin,
Comforted I will not be,
Till my soul is all like Thee.

See my burden'd, sin-sick soul,
Give me faith, and make me whole,
Finish Thy great work of grace,
Cut it short in righteousness:
Speak the second time, Be clean,
Take away my inbred sin,
Now the stumbling-block remove,
Cast it out by perfect love.

Nothing less will I require,
Nothing more can I desire;
None but Christ to me be given,
None but Christ in earth, or heaven.
O that I might now decrease!
O that all I am might cease!
Let me into nothing fall,
Let my Lord be all in all.