Here behold me, as I cast me

At thy throne, O glorious King!

Tears fast thronging, child-like longing,

Son of man to thee I bring.

Let me find thee—

Me, a poor and worthless thing.

2 Look upon me, Lord, I pray thee;

Let thy Spirit dwell in mine:

Thou hast sought me, thou hast bought me,

Only thee to know I pine:

Let me find thee—

Take my heart and grant me thine.

3 Nought I ask for, nought I strive for,

But thy grace, so rich and free,

That thou givest whom thou lovest,

And who truly cleave to thee;

Let me find thee—

He hath all things who hath thee.

4 Earthly treasure, mirth and pleasure,

Glorious name or richest hoard

Are but weary, void, and dreary,

To the heart that longs for God:

Let me find thee—

I am ready, mighty Lord.