Make me a captive, Lord

if you do not hear the tune, click here.

Make me a captive, Lord, and then I shall be free.
Force me to render up my sword, and I shall conqu'ror be.
I sink in life’s alarms when by myself I stand;
Imprison me within thine arms, and strong shall be my hand.

My heart is weak and poor till it a master find;
It has no spring of action sure, it varies with the wind.       (note: as in winding a clock, not a breeze)
It cannot freely move till thou has wrought its chain;
Enslave it with Thy matchless love, and deathless it shall reign.

My power is faint and low till I have learned to serve;
It wants the needed fire to glow, it wants the breeze to nerve.
It cannot drive the world until itself be driv'n;
Its flag can only be unfurled when thou shalt breathe from heaven.

My will is not my own till Thou hast 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.

#539 in Hymnal: A Worship Book

Words:  George Matheson, Sacred Songs, 1890
   Tune:  George W. Martin, The Journal of Part Music, Vol. II;
                        harmonized by Arthur Sullivan, Church Hymns with Tunes, 1874

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