1 Come, my fond fluttering heart,
Come, struggle to be free,
Thou and the world must part,
However hard it be:
My trembling spirit owns it just,
But cleaves yet closer to the dust.
2 Ye tempting sweets, forbear,
Ye dearest idols, fall;
My heart ye must not share,
Jesus shall have it all:
‘Tis bitter pain, ‘tis cruel smart,
But ah! thou must consent, my heart!
3 Ye fair enchanting throng!
Ye golden dreams, farewell!
Earth has prevail'd too long,
And now I break the spell:
Ye cherish'd joys of early years,
Jesus, forgive these parting tears.
4 But must I part with all?
My heart still fondly pleads,
Yes--Dagon's self must fall,
It beats, it throbs, it bleeds.
Is there no balm in Gilead found
To sooth and heal the smarting wound?
5 O yes, there is a balm,
A kind physician there,
My fever'd mind to calm,
To bid me not despair:
Aid me, dear Saviour, set me free,
And I will all resign to thee.
6 O may I feel thy worth,
And let no idol dare,
No vanity of earth,
With thee, my Lord, compare:
Now bid all worldly joys depart,
And reign supremely in my heart!
Text Information | |
---|---|
First Line: | Come, my fond fluttering heart |
Meter: | P. M. |
Publication Date: | 1828 |
Topic: | Penitence of the awakened sinner: Penitence; Renouncing the World |
Notes: | Public Domain. |