O dearest Lamb, take thou my heart!

Where can such sweetness be

As I have tasted in thy love,

As I have found in thee?

 

If there’s a fervor in my soul,

And fervor sure there is,

Now it shall be at thy control,

And but to serve thee rise.

 

If love, that mildest flame, can rest

In hearts so hard as mine,

Come, gentle Saviour, to my breast,

Its love shall all be thine.

 

Now the gay world with treacherous art

Shall tempt my heart in vain;

I have conveyed away that heart,

Ne’er to return again.

 

’Tis heaven on earth to taste his love,

To feel his quickening grace,

And all the heaven I hope above

Is but to se his face.

 

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