And can I yet delay
My little all to give?
To tear my soul from earth away,
For Jesus to receive?

2 Nay, but I yield, I yield,
I can hold out no more:
I sink, by dying love compelled,
And own thee conqueror.

3 Tho' late, I all forsake,
My friends, my all resign;
Gracious Redeemer, take, oh, take,
And seal me ever thine.

4 Come and possess me whole,
Nor hence again remove;
Settle and fix my wav'ring soul
With all thy weight of love.

Charles Wesley, 1746.