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 amaster 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.
  3. 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.

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