- I THIRST, thou wounded Lamb of God,
To wash me in Thy cleansing blood,
To dwell within Thy wounds; then pain
Is sweet, and life or death is gain.
- Take my poor heart, and let it be
For ever closed to all but Thee!
Seal Thou my breast, and let me we;
That pledge of love for ever there!
- How blest are they who still abide
Close sheltered in Thy bleeding side,
Who life and strength from thence derive,
And by Thee move, and in Thee live.
- How can it be, Thou heavenly King,
That thou shouldst us to glory bring?
Make slaves the partners of thy throne,
Decked with a never-fading crown?
- Ah, Lord! enlarge our scanty thought,
To know the wonders thou hast wrought;
Unloose our stammering tongues, to tell
Thy love immense, unsearchable.
- First-born of many brethren thou!
To Thee, lo! all our souls we bow:
To Thee our hearts and hands we give:
Thine may we die, Thine may we live! Amen.