1 Far from thy fold, O God, my feet
Once moved in error's devious maze;
Nor found religious duties sweet,
Now sought thy face, nor lov'd thy ways.
2 With tend'rest voice thou bad'st me flee
The paths which thou could'st ne'er approve;
And gently drew my soul to thee,
With cords of sweet, eternal love.
3 Now to thy footstool, Lord, I fly,
And low in self-abasement fall;
A vile, a helpless worm, I lie,
And thou, my God, art all in all.
4 Dearer, far dearer to my heart,
Than all the joys that earth can give;
From fame, from wealth, from friends I'll part,
Beneath thy countenance to live.
5 And when, in smiling friendship drest,
Death bids me quit this mortal frame,
Gently reclin'd on Jesus' breast,
My latest breath shall bless his name.
6 Then my unfetter'd soul shall rise,
And soar above yon starry spheres:
Join the fall chorus of the skies,
And sing thy praise thro' endless years.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Far from thy fold, O God, my feet |
Meter: | L. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1845 |
Topic: | Christ: Salvation Through Him |