MAKE ME A CAPTIVE

Make me a captive, Lord,

and then I shall be free;

force me to render up my sword,

and I shall conqueror be.

I sink in life's alarms

when by myself I stand;

imprison me within Thine arms,

and strong shall be my hand.




My heart is weak and poor

until its master find;

it has no spring of action sure,

it varies with the wind.

It cannot freely move,

'til Thou hast wrought its chain;

enslave it with Thy matchless love,

and deathless it shall reign.




My power is faint and low

till I have learned to serve;

it wants the needed fire to glow,

it wants the breeze to nerve;

it cannot drive the world,

until itself be driven;

its flag can only be unfurled

when Thou shalt breathe from heaven.




My will is not my own

till Thou hast made it Thine;

if it would reach a monarch's throne

it must its crown resign;

it only stands unbent,

amid the clashing strife,

when on Thy bosom it has leant

and found in Thee its life.