On His Birthday, Hymn 8

O Thou whose special grace
Did kindly condescend
Of all the chosen race
To single out a friend,
To shower on him, above the rest,
Thy richest favours down,
And press him closest to Thy breast,
Thy best-beloved John /

I lift my heart to Thee,
To Thee, who know'st the whole,
Its dearest amity
For one distinguish'd soul:
The soft unutterable love
Wherewith I one embrace,
With gracious smiles behold, approve,
And turn it to Thy praise.

To Thee, and Thy great name
My whole affection turn,
And let the hallow'd flame
For Thy pure glory burn;
From all idolatrous excess,
From earthly dross refine,
And on my simple heart impress
The character Divine.

No more may I provoke
My God to jealousy,
Or to Thy creature look
For what proceeds from Thee
Fountain of life, and joy, and peace,
Thee may I always own,
And find my total happiness,
Laid up in God alone.

My all of comfort here,
Whoe'er the grace transmit,
To Thee may I refer,
And worship at Thy feet:
From Thee may I my partner take,
(That precious loan of Thine,)
And wait Thy call to give him back,
And bless the name Divine.

On Thee, my God, on Thee
Alone would I depend,
And taste Thy love, and see
Thy image, in my friend.
My bosom-friend at Thy demand
I promise to restore;
But let us meet at Thy right-hand,
And praise Thee evermore!