1 When shall thy love constrain
And force me to thy breast?
When shall my soul return again
To her eternal rest?
2 Thy condescending grace
To me did freely move;
It calls me still to seek thy face,
And stoops to ask my love.
3 Lord, at thy feet I fall,
I long to be set free,
I fain would now obey the call
And give up all to thee.
4 Nay, but I yield, I yield!
I can hold out no more,
I sink, by dying love compelled,
And own thee conqueror.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | When shall thy love constrain |
Author: | Charles Wesley (1707-88) |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1986 |
Topic: | The gospel: Response |