1 O Lord of hosts I long to know,
Whether I've past a saving change;
If really it is not so,
Then all my works to the are strange.

2 I pass among thy children here,
To be thy follow'r and thy friend;
Yet lord at times I greatly fear,
That death to this will put an end.

3 How can I bear to leave the saints,
And hear thy sentence, Go– depart!
Lord at the thought my spirit faints,
To hear the word will break my heart.

4 Sometimes I fell a stupid frame,
But sure it doth a burden prove;
Kindle my passions to a flame,
And fill my soul with sacred love.

5 Lord lift my soul above her fears,
For perfect love will cast them out;
Dear Jesus wipe away my tears,
And give me faith beyond a doubt.

6 Sure then my soul will join the throng,
That speak thy praises more and more,
And when I die begin the song,
That will be new forevermore.