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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 conq'ror 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 learned 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 shalt breathe from heaven. - My will is not my own
Till Thou hast made it Thine;
If it would reach the 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.
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