1 FATHER, if thou must reprove
For all that I have done,
Not in anger, but in love
Chastise thine humbled son;
Use the rod, and not the sword,
Correct with kind severity;
Bring me not to nothing, Lord!
But bring me home to thee.
2 True and faithful as thou art,
To all thy Church and me,
Give a new, believing heart,
That knows and cleaves to thee;
Freely our backslidings heal,
And, by thy precious blood restored,
Grant that every soul may feel,
'Thou art my pardoning Lord!'
3 Might we now with pure desire
Thine only love request;
Now, with willing heart entire,
Return to Christ our rest!
When we our whole hearts resign,
O Jesus, to be filled with thee,
Thou art ours, and we are thine,
Through all eternity.
