Lo, a soul Thy love has bought,
Thine by purchase, Lord, am I!
Thine I would be, willing nought,
Save beneath Thy will to lie!

Gently loosen Thou my hold
On the former treasured things:
Joys and vanities of old,
Shadows where the flesh still clings!

I am Thine! my soul, lie still-
Clay within the Potter’s hands,
Molded by that tender Will:
Love, more mighty than commands!