Melody - Diademata
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1. 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. |
2. My heart is weak and poor Until it master find; It has no spring of action sure It varies with the wind; It cannot freely move Till Thou has wrought its chain; Enslave it with Thy matchless love, and deathless it shall reign. |
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3. My will is not my own Till Thou hast made it thine; If it would reach the monarch's throne It must its crown resign: It only stands unbent, Amid the crashing strife, When on Thy bosom it has leaned, And found in Thee its life. |
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