Scripture Verse

Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow. Psalm 51:7


George Matheson (1842–1906)

Words: George Ma­the­son, Sac­red Songs 1890.

Music: Mo­ther­land Tho­mas Hut­chin­son, in The Pri­mi­tive Me­tho­dist Hym­nal Sup­pl­ement with Tunes, ed­it­ed by George Booth (Lon­don: Pri­mi­tive Me­tho­dist Pub­lish­ing House, 1912), num­ber 96 (🔊 pdf nwc).

If you know where to get a good pho­to of Hut­chin­son (head & shoul­ders, at least 200×300 pix­els),


Father di­vine, I come to Thee,
I yield, a cap­tive, to Thy sway,
That love’s gold chain may set me free
For all the bur­den of the day.

I come not to avoid my care,
I come not to de­sert the strife;
I come to seek new strength to bear,
I fly to find new ­ for life.

Many there be that seek Thy face
To meet the hour of part­ing breath,
But ’tis for earth I need Thy grace—
Life is more so­lemn still than death.

When morn­ing gilds the porch of day,
I feel so vile amid the glow
That I should faint, didst Thou not say,
I make thee whit­er than the snow!

When noon­tide brings its work to all,
I find my task so hard to be,
That I should sink, didst Thou not call,
My strength is per­fect­ed in thee!

When dark­ness leads the world to rest,
The si­lent bur­den of the night
Would crush, but for Thy mes­sage blest,
At ev­en­ing time there shall be light!

Oh, may these streams of gold­en light
To all my de­sert way be given,
Till faith it­self is lost in sight,
And days on earth be days of Hea­ven.