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I to the hills will lift

• • I thirst, Thou wounded Lamb of God, 
  • to wash me in Thy cleansing blood; 
  • to dwell within Thy wounds; then pain 
  • is sweet, and life or death is gain. 
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  • Take my poor heart, and let it be 
  • for ever closed to all but Thee; 
  • seal Thou my breast, and let me wear 
  • that pledge of love for ever there. 
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  • How blest are they who still abide 
  • close sheltered in Thy bleeding side! 
  • Who life and strength from thence derive, 
  • and by Thee move, and in Thee live. 
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  • What are our works but sin and death, 
  • till Thou Thy quickening Spirit breathe? 
  • Thou givest the power, Thy grace doth move: 
  • O wondrous grace! O boundless love! 
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  • Ah, Lord, enlarge our scanty thought 
  • to know the wonders Thou hast wrought; 
  • unloose our stammering tongues to tell 
  • Thy love immense, unsearchable. ......
  
  
• Album: Stand , Artist: Scottish Psalter, Language: English, Viewed: 639 times