1 Weary of struggling with my pain,
Hopeless to burst my nature's chain,
Hardly I give the contest o'er,
I seek to free myself no more.
2 From my own words at last I cease--
God that creates must seal my peace;
Fruitless my toil and vain my care,
And all my fitness is despair.
3 Lord, I despair myself to heal,
I see my sin but cannot feel;
I cannot, till my spirit bow,
And bid th' obedient waters flow.
4 'Tis thine, a heart of flesh to give,
Thy gifts I only can receive;
Here then to thee I all resign;
To draw, redeem and seal is thine.
5 With simple truth to thee I call,
My light, my life, my Lord, my all;
I wait the moving of the pool--
I wait the word that speaks me whole.
6 Speak, gracious Lord, my sickness cure,
Make my infected nature pure;
Peace, righteousness and joy impart,
And pour thyself into my heart.
Source: Divine Hymns or Spiritual Songs, for the use of religious assemblies and private Christians: being a collection #XXVIII