C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Father, I Stretch My Hands to Thee

FATHER, I stretch my hands to thee;

No other help I know:

If thou withdraw thyself from me,

Ah! whither shall I go?

What did thine only Son endure,

Before I drew my breath!

What pain, what labor, to secure

My soul from endless death!

O Jesus, could I this believe,

I now should feel thy power;

And all my wants thou wouldst relieve,

In this accepted hour.

Author of faith! to thee I lift

My weary, longing eyes;

O let me now receive that gift:

My soul without it dies.

Surely thou canst not let me die:

O speak, and I shall live;

And here I will unwearied lie,

Till thou thy Spirit give.

How would my fainting soul rejoice

Could I but see thy face!

Now let me hear thy quickening voice,

And taste thy pardoning grace.