H. Bradley

I AM Thine own, O Christ;

Henceforth entirely Thine;

And life from this glad hour,

New life is mine.


No earthly joy can lure

My quiet soul from Thee;

This deep delight, so pure,

Is heaven to me.


My joyful song of praise

In sweet content I sing:

To Thee the note I raise,

My King! my King!


I cannot tell the art

By which such bliss is given;

I know Thou hast my heart,

And I have heaven.


O peace, O holy rest,

O balmy breath of love;

O heart, divinest, best,

Thy depth I prove.


I ask this gift of Thee,

A life all lily-fair;

And fragrant as the place

Where seraphs are.


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