John Newton (24 July 1725 – 21 December 1807 / London, England)
Ask What I Shall Give Thee (III)
Behold the throne of grace!
The promise calls me near;
There Jesus shows a smiling face,
And waits to answer prayer.
That rich atoning blood,
Which sprinkled round I see;
Provides for those who come to God,
An all-prevailing plea.
My soul ask what thou wilt,
Thou canst not be too bold;
Since his own blood for thee he spilt,
What else can he withhold.
Beyond thy utmost wants
His love and pow'r can bless;
To praying souls he always grants,
More than they can express.
Since 'tis the Lord's command,
My mouth I open wide;
Lord open thou thy bounteous hand,
That I may be supplied.
Thine image, Lord, bestow,
Thy presence and thy love;
I ask to serve thee here below,
And reign with thee above.
Teach me to live by faith,
Conform my will to thine;
Let me victorious be in death,
And then in glory shine.
If Thou these blessings give,
And wilt my portion be;
Cheerful the world's poor toys I leave,
To them who know not thee.
John Newton's Other Poems
- A Brand Plucked Out Of The Fire
- A Friend That Sticketh Closer Than A Bro...
- A Sick Soul
- Amazing Grace
- Ask What I Shall Give Thee (I)
- Ask What I Shall Give Thee (II)
- Ask What I Shall Give Thee (III)
- At the Close of the Year
- Balaam's Wish
- Bitter and Sweet
- But One Loaf
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