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1 Come, my soul, thy suit prepare,
Jesus loves to answer pray'r
He himself has bid thee pray;
Therefore will not say thee nay.
2 Thou art coming to a King,
Large petitions with thee bring;
For his grace and power are such,
None can ever ask too much.
3 With my burden I begin,
Lord, remove this load of sin!
Let thy blood, for sinners spilt,
Set my conscience free from guilt.
4 Lord! I come to thee for rest,
Take possession of my breast;
There thy blood-bought right maintain,
And without a rival reign.
5 As the image in the glass
Answers the beholder's face;
Thus unto my heart appear,
Print thine own resemblance there.
6 While I am a pilgrim here,
Let Thy love my spirit cheer;
As my guide, my guard, my friend,
Lead me to my journey's end.
7 Shew me what I have to do,
Ev'ry hour my strength renew;
Let me live a life of faith,
Let me live the people's death.
| Text Information | |
|---|---|
| First Line: | Come, my soul, thy suit prepare |
| Title: | Ask What I Shall Give Thee |
| Language: | English |
| Publication Date: | 1803 |
| Notes: | Public Domain. |