A Hymn to Christ

Meek, patient Lamb of God, to Thee
I fly; Thy meekness give to me:
I choose Thee for my life, my crown,
I pant to have Thee all my own:
Thou seest my heart, Thou know'st my love,
From Thee I never will remove;
No shame I fear, no pain, or loss,
But gladly follow to the cross.

Make clean as wool my filthy heart,
Wash white as snow my every part:
Give me in stillness to sustain
Whate'er Thy wisdom shall ordain.
Carve for Thyself in me, and make
My heart Thy lamb-like image take:
Yea, slay me, Lord, and offer me
A pure burnt sacrifice to Thee.

Bind, Father, hand and foot Thy son,
Nor leave the work till all be done;
O, never let me, Lord, go free,
Till all my heart's resign'd to Thee:
Then quickly to the altar lead,
And suffer me no more to plead:
No longer with the' old Adam bear;
Lead on, dear Lord, consume him there.