Oh, Lord, I would obey;
Be Thou the skillful Potter,
And I the yielding clay.
While in Thy hand I’m lying still.
Oh, hold me quiet there;
Then soften me and mould me,
And for Thy will prepare.
Thy love and skill are such,
New lessons Thou wilt teach me,
While yielding to Thy touch.
Fulfil Thy blest design,
Till others see upon me
That beauteous face of Thine.