1. Make me a captive, Lord, And then I shall be free; Force me to render up my sword, And I shall conqueror be. I sink in life's alarms When by myself I stand; Imprison me within Thine arms, And strong shall be my hand. 2. My heart is weak and poor Till it a master find; It has no spring of action sure It varies with the wind. It cannot freely move Till Thou hast wrought its chain; Enslave it with Thy matchless love, And deathless it shall reign. 3. My will is not my own Till Thou has made it Thine; If it would reach a monarch's throne It must its crown resign; It only stands unbent, Amid the clashing strife, When on Thy bosom it has leant And found in Thee its life.