My Soul Before Thee Prostrate Lies

My soul be­fore Thee pros­trate lies;

To Thee

her source

my spir­it flies;

My wants I mourn

my chains I see;

O let Thy pre­sence set me free.

Jesus

vouch­safe my heart and will

With Thy meek low­li­ness to fill;

No more her pow­er let na­ture boast

But in Thy will may mine be lost.

Already spring­ing hope I feel

God will de­stroy the pow­er of hell

And

from a land of wars and pain

Lead me where peace and safe­ty reign.

One on­ly care my soul shall know

Father

all Thy com­mands to do;

And feel

what end­less years shall prove

That Thou

my Lord

my God

art love.