Let me come nearer, till
The life of self pulsates no more,
But is forever still.
Fill Thou each crevice there,
And let Thy garden yield to Thee
A fragrance sweet and rare.
Possess Thy ransomed one:
Appropriate to Thine Own use
The spoil that Thou hast won.
I bow beneath Thy sway,
And count it holy privilege
Thy precepts to obey.
Straight from God's heart of love;
I break my heart to give Thee room
And thus Thy sweetness prove.