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!
Surely thou canst not let me die!
O speak and I shall live,
and here I will unwearied lie,
till thou thy Spirit give.
Author of faith! to thee I lift
my weary, longing eyes.
O let me now receive that gift!
My soul without it dies.
Words: Charles Wesley; Psalms and Hymns, 1741
Tune: Hugh Wilson (1766-1824);
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