1 Come, my soul, thy suit prepare,
Jesus loves to answer prayer;
He Himself has bid thee pray,
Therefore will not say thee nay.
2 Thou art coming to a King:
Large petitions with thee bring;
For His grace and power are such,
None can ever ask too much.
3 With my burden I begin:
Lord, remove this load of sin;
Let Thy blood, for sinners spilt,
Set my conscience free from guilt.
4 Lord, I come to Thee for rest,
Take possession of my breast;
There Thy blood-bought right maintain,
And without a rival reign.
5 While I am a pilgrim here,
Let Thy love my spirit cheer;
Be my Guide, my Guard, my Friend,
Lead me to my journey's end.
6 Show me what I have to do,
Every hour my strength renew;
Let me live a life of faith,
Let me die Thy people's death.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Come, my soul, thy suit prepare |
Meter: | 7s |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1918 |
Topic: | Invitation |