Songs

My stubborn will at last hath yielded

239
					9.8.9.8.Ref.

1	My stubborn will at last hath yielded;
	I would be Thine, and Thine alone;
	And this the prayer my lips are bringing,
	Lord, let in me Thy will be done.

		Sweet will of God, still fold me closer;
		Till I am wholly lost in Thee;
		Sweet will of God, still fold me closer,
		Till I am wholly lost in Thee.

2	I’m tired of sin, footsore and weary,
	The darksome path hath dreary grown,
	But now a light has ris’n to cheer me;
	I find in Thee my Star, my Sun.

3	Thy precious will, O conqu’ring Saviour,
	Doth now embrace and compass me;
	All discords hushed, my peace a river,
	My soul, a prisoned bird, set free.

4	Shut in with Thee, O Lord, forever,
	My wayward feet no more to roam;
	What pow’r from Thee my soul can sever?
	The centre of God’s will my home.

							C.H. Morris