Lovest Thou Me? Feed My Lambs

Do not I love thee, O my Lord?

Behold my heart and see:

And turn each cursed idol out,

That dares to rival thee.

Do not I love thee, O my soul?

Then let me nothing love;

Dead be my heart to every joy,

When Jesus cannot move.

Is not thy name melodious still

To my attentive ear?

Doth not each pulse with pleasure bound

My Savior's voice to hear?

Hast thou a lamb in all thy flock

I would disdain to feed?

Hast thou a foe, before whose face

I fear thy cause to plead?

Would not mine ardent spirit vie

With angels round the throne,

To execute thy sacred will,

And make thy glory known?

Would not my heart pour forth its blood

In honor of thy name,

And challenge the cold hand of death

To damp the immortal flame?

Thou knowest I love thee, dearest Lord,

But O, I long to soar

Far from the sphere of mortal joys,

And learn to love thee more!