From silken self, O master free me.
They soldier, who would follow thee!
From subtle love of softening things.
From easy choices weakenings.
(Not thus are spirits fortified,
Not this way went the Crucified).
From all that dims thy Calvary,
O lamb of God deliver me.
Give me the love that leads the way,
The faith that nothing can dismay,
The hope no disappointments tire,
The passion that will burn like fire.
Let me not think to be a clod,
Make me thy fuel, Flame of God.
Submitted By Erma Eidse,