Blessed Saviour, my heart is just thirsting
To tell of Thy wonderful love;
I would speak to the lost and the guilty
Of the grace that comes down from above.
But, dear Lord, ‘tis Thy Spirit’s own unction
I need so to work in my heart,
That its outgoings may, like a river,
Some gladness to others impart.
If my lips Thou would’st touch from Thine altar,
With the fire that is kindled above;
If my heart Thou would’st hold in Thy keeping,
Surcharged with Thy marvelous love;
If mine eyes are just fixed on Thy beauty,
And my tongue Thou would’st order aright;
Blessed Lord, what a number of sinners
Would be drawn to Thy dear feet tonight.
‘Twere Thy thoughts, Lord, that then I should utter,
The power would be wholly Thine own,
And the words that come forth would be wafted
In wisdom and grace from Thy throne:
Yea, the hearts of the hardest be melted,
The anxious one’s tears would be dry,
Yonder courts with Thy praise would be ringing,
As blessings pour down from the sin.
Precious Saviour, of sell keep me empty,
That so Thou may’st use me today;
Let mine ear: just attend to Thy message
For those who have wander’d away.
If “the net” at Thy word I but lower,
The blessings will then be divine;
By my hands, though, that net may be lower’d,
Yet the glory alone will be Thine.
S T.