O LORD! I NOTHING CRAVE BUT THEE.


From the Tartar.

O thou, from whom all love doth flow,
Whom all the world doth reverence so,
Thou constitut'st each care I know;
O Lord! I nothing crave but Thee.

O keep me from each sinful way;
Thou breathedst life within my clay,
I'll therefore serve Thee, night and day;
O Lord! I nothing crave but Thee.

I ope my eyes and see Thy face,
On Thee my musings all I place,
I've left my parents, friends and race;
O Lord! I nothing crave but Thee.

Take Thou my soul, my every thing,
My blood from out its vessels wring,
Thy slave am I, and Thou my King;
O Lord! I nothing crave but Thee.

I speak--my tongue on Thee doth roam;
I list--the winds Thy title boom;