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The Book of Praise.
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When shall Thy love constrain And force me to Thy breast ? When shall my soul return again To her eternal rest ?
Ah ! what avails my strife, My wandering to and fro ? Thou hast the words of endless life; Ah ! whither should I go ?
Thy condescending grace To me did freely move ; It calls me still to seek Thy face, And stoops to ask my love.
Lord ! at Thy feet I fall; I groan to be set free ; I fain would now obey the call, And give up all for Thee.
Though late, I all forsake, My friends, my life resign : Gracious Redeemer, take, O take, And seal me ever Thine !
Come, and possess me whole, Nor hence again remove : Settle, and fix my wavering soul With all Thy weight of love !
My one desire be this, Thy only love to know, To seek and taste no other bliss, No other good below. |
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