Jesus, from whom all bless­ings flow,
Great Build­er of Thy Church be­low,
If now Thy Spir­it moves my breast,
Hear, and ful­fill Thine own re­quest!

The few that tru­ly call Thee Lord,
And wait Thy sanc­ti­fy­ing word,
And Thee their ut­most Sav­ior own,
Unite, and per­fect them in one.

O let them all Thy mind ex­press,
Stand forth Thy chos­en wit­ness­es,
Thy pow­er un­to sal­va­tion show,
And per­fect ho­li­ness be­low!

In them let all man­kind be­hold
How Chris­tians lived in days of old,
Mighty their en­vi­ous foes to move,
A pro­verb of re­proach—and love.

From ev­ery sin­ful wrin­kle free,
Redeemed from all ini­qui­ty,
The fel­low­ship of saints make known;
And, O my God, might I be one!

O might my lot be cast with these,
The least of Je­su’s wit­ness­es!
O that my Lord would count me meet
To wash His dear dis­ci­ples’ feet!

This on­ly thing do I re­quire:
Thou know­est ’tis all my heart’s de­sire
Freely what I re­ceive to give,
The ser­vant of Thy Church to live;

After my low­ly Lord to go,
And wait up­on Thy saints be­low;
Enjoy the grace to an­gels giv’n,
And serve the roy­al heirs of Hea­ven.

Lord, if I now Thy draw­ings feel,
And ask ac­cord­ing to Thy will,
Confirm the pray­er, the seal im­part,
And speak the an­swer to my heart.