University of Virginia Library

CONSECRATION OF SELF.

Iesus, I feel the quickening spark,
O how it burns within!
'Tis love that purifies the heart,
And cleanses from all sin.
And now I stretch my hands to Thee;
Dear Saviour bid me fly,

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That I may in thy presence be,
And reign above the sky.
Where I may wear a starry crown,
Through ceaseless years to come,
And in the city I'll be found,
Around thy dazzling throne.