The Christian well may fear,
More subtle far than inbred sin,
And to the heart more dear.
It is the pow’r of selfishness,
It is the wilful I,
And ere my Lord can live in me,
My very self must die.
A race of giants still:
Self-glorying, self-confidence,
Self-seeking and self-will.
Still must these haughty Anakims
By Caleb’s sword be slain,
Ere Hebron’s heights of heav’nly love,
Our conqu’ring feet can gain.
Which claims Thy sacred throne;
Oh! let my will be lost in Thine,
And let Thy will be done.
Oh, keep me from self-confidence,
And self-sufficiency;
Let me exchange my strength for Thine,
And lean alone on Thee.
Let me not be my own;
A living sacrifice I come,
Lord, keep me Thine alone.
From proud vain glory save me, Lord,
From pride of praise and fame;
To Christ be all the honor given,
The glory to His name.
By Thy consuming breath;
Show me Thy heart, Thy wounds, Thy shame,
That self be put to death.
When the Shekinah flame came down,
E’en Moses could not stay;
So let Thy glory fill me now,
And self forever slay.