3 Take my lips, and let them be Filled with messages for thee; Take my silver and my gold-- Not a mite would I withhold. 4 Take my moments and my days, Let them flow in endless praise; Take my intellect, and use Ev'ry pow'r as thou shalt choose. 5 Take my will, and make it thine; It shall be no longer mine; Take my heart,--it is thine own,-- It shall be thy royal throne. 6 Take my love,--my Lord, I pour At thy feet its treasure-store! Take myself, and I will be Ever, only, all for thee! Frances Ridley Havergal. 278 Draw Me to Thee. 8s & 6s. _Nearness to Christ Desired._ Lord, weak and impotent I stand, As fettered by an unseen hand; Break thou the strong and subtle band, And draw me close to thee. Cho.--Draw me close to thee, Savior, Draw me close to thee; Beneath thy wing do thou me hide, And draw me close to thee. 2 In vain I struggle to be free; I would, but cannot, fly to thee; Ope thou the prison door for me, And draw me close to thee. 3 Oh, bring me nearer, nearer still, That thine own peace my soul may fill, And I may rest in thy sweet will; Lord, draw me close to thee. 4 Here, Lord, I would forever bide, And never wander from thy side; Beneath thy wing do thou me hide, And draw me close to thee. M.A.W. Cook. 279 Draw Me to Thee. 8s & 6s. _Clinging to Christ._ (668) O holy Savior! Friend unseen, Since on thine arm thou bid'st me lean, Help me, throughout life's changing scene, By faith to cling to thee! Cho.--Help me cling to thee, Savior, Help me cling to thee! Help me, throughout life's changing scene, By faith to cling to thee! 2 Without a murmur I dismiss My former dreams of earthly bliss; My joy, my recompense be this, Each hour to cling to thee! 3 Though faith and hope are often tried, I ask not, need not, aught beside; So safe, so calm, so satisfied, The soul that clings to thee! Charlotte Elliott. 280 Draw Me Nearer. P.M. _Communion with Christ._ I am thine, O Lord, I have heard thy voice, And it told thy love to me; But I long to rise in the arms of faith, And be closer drawn to thee. Ref.--Draw me nearer, nearer, blessed Lord, To the cross where thou hast died; Draw me nearer, nearer, nearer, blessed Lord, To thy precious, bleeding side. 2 Consecrate me now to thy service, Lord, By the pow'r of grace divine; Let my soul look up with a steadfast hope, And my will be lost in thine. 3 O the pure delight of a single hour That before thy throne I spend, When I kneel in pray'r, and with thee, my God, I commune as friend with friend. 4 There are depths of love that I cannot know Till I cross the narrow sea, There are heights of joy that I may not reach Till I rest in peace with thee. Fanny J. Crosby. 281 Whiter Than Snow. 11s. _Desire for Purity._