The Pilgrim's Wants
I want a sweet sense of Thy pardoning love,
That my manifold sins are forgiven;
That Christ, as my advocate, pleadeth above,
That my name is recorded in heaven.
I want every moment to feel
That Thy spirit resides in my heart-
That His power is present to cleanse and to heal,
And newness of life to impart.
I want-Oh! I want to attain
Some likeness my Savior to Thee!
That longed-for resemblance once more to regain,
Thy comeliness put upon me.
I want to be marked for Thine own-
Thy seal on my forehead to wear;
To receive that new name on the mystic white stone
Which none but Thyself can declare.
I want so in Thee to abide
As to bring forth some fruit to Thy praise;
The branch which Thou prunest, though feeble and dried,
May languish but never decays.
I want Thine own hand to unbind
Each tie to terrestrial things,
Too tenderly cherished, too closely entwined,
Where my heart so tenaciously clings.
I want, by my aspect serene,
My actions and words to declare
That my treasure is placed in a country unseen,
That my heart's best affections are there.
I want as a trav'ller to haste,
Straight onward, nor pause on my way;
Nor fore thought in anxious contrivance to watse
On the tent only pitched for a day.
I want-and this sums up my prayer-
To glorify Thee till I die;
Then calmly to yield up my soul to Thy care,
And breathe out in faith my last sigh.