Raise Me, Jesus, To Thy Bosom,
From This World Of Sin And Woes;
Let Me Feel Thine Arms Around Me,
Then My Soul May Know Repose.
I Am Weary With My Burden,
And I Come To Thee For Rest;
Kneeling At Thy Feet, I Pray Thee,
Lift Me, Jesus, To Thy Breast.
Raise Me, Jesus, To Thy Bosom,
From This World Of Sin And Woes;
Let Me Feel Thine Arms Around Me,
Then My Soul May Know Repose.
Raise Me, Jesus, To Thy Bosom,
For My Heart Is Slave To Fear,
That Will Vanish As A Shadow,
When It Feels Thy Presence Near.
In My Anguish Deign To Hear Me
All My Sin And Grief Confess;
By The Promise Thou Hast Given,
Lift Me, Jesus, To Thy Breast.
Raise Me, Jesus, To Thy Bosom,
Hear A Contrite Spirit’s Prayer;
Raise Me From The Sin Around Me
Ere I Yield Me To Despair.
Oh, I Feel That Thou Wilt Hear Me,
And Will Give Me Holy Rest;
Now I Feel Thy Glory Near Me,
Lift Me, Jesus, To Thy Breast.
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