Mrs. Booth-Clibborn


O LAMB of God! Thou wonderful sin-bearer,

Hard after Thee my soul doth follow on;

As pants the hart for streams in desert dreary,

So pants my soul for Thee, O Thou life-giving One.

At Thy feet I fall,

Yield Thee up my all,

To suffer, live or die

For my Lord crucified.


I mourn, I mourn the sin that drove Thee from me,

And blackest darkness brought into my soul;

Now I renounce the cursed thing that hindered,

And come once more to Thee, to be made fully whole.


Descend the heavens, Thou whom my soul adoreth;

Exchange Thy throne for my poor longing heart,

For Thee, for Thee, I watch, as for the morning;

No rest or peace is mine from my Saviour apart.


Come, Holy Ghost, Thy mighty aid bestowing,

Destroy the works of sin, the self, the pride;

Burn, burn in me, my idols overthrowing,

Prepare my heart for Him—for my Lord crucified!


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