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Make me a captive, Lord 
 Make me a captive, Lord, And then I shall be free; Force me to render up my sword, And I shall conqueror be. I sink in life’s alarms When by myself I stand; Imprison me within Thine arms, And strong shall be my hand. 
 My heart is weak and poor Until it master find; It has no spring of action sure -It varies with the wind. It cannot freely move, Till Thou hast wrought its chain; Enslave it with Thy matchless love, And deathless it shall reign. 
 My power is faint and low Till I have learnt to serve; It wants the needed fire to glow, It wants the breeze to nerve; It cannot drive the world, Until itself be driven; Its flag can only be unfurled When Thou shall breathe from heaven. 
 My will is not my own Till Thou hast made it Thine; If it would reach a monarch’s throne It must its crown resign; It only stands unbent, Amid the clashing strife, When on Thy bosom it has leant And found in Thee its life.