'Tis a point I long to know,
Oft it causes anxious thought;
Do I love the Lord, or no?
Am I His, or am I not?

If I am, why am I thus?
Why this dull and lifeless frame?
Hardly, sure, can they be worse,
Who have never heard His name!

Could my heart so hard remain,
Pray'r a task and burden prove;
Ev'ry trifle give me pain,
If I knew a Saviour's love?

When I turn my eyes within,
All is dark, and vain, and wild;
Fill'd with unbelief and sin,
Can I deem myself a child?

If I pray, or hear, or read,
Sin is mix'd with all I do;
You that love the Lord indeed,
Tell me, Is it so with you?

Yet I mourn my stubborn will,
Find my sin, a grief, and thrall;
Should I grieve for what I feel,
If I did not love at all?

Could I joy His saints to meet,
Choose the ways I once abhorr'd,
Find, at times, the promise sweet,
If I did not love the Lord?

Lord decide the doubtful case!
Thou Who art Thy people's sun;
Shine upon Thy work of grace,
If it be indeed begun.

Let me love Thee more and more,
If I love at all, I pray;
If I have not lov'd before,
Help me to begin today.

What is this point you long to know,
Methinks I hear you say, 'tis this -
I want to know I'm born of God,
An heir of everlasting bliss.

Is this the point you long to know?
The point is settled in my view -
For if you want to love your God,
It proves He first loved you.

I want to know Christ died for me,
I want to feel the seal within;
I want to know Christ's precious blood,
Was shed to wash away my sin.

I want to feel more love to Christ,
I want more liberty in prayer;
But when I looked within my heart,
It almost drives me to despair.

I want a mind more firmly fixed,
On Christ, my everlasting Head;
I want to feel my soul alive,
And not so barren and so dead.

I want more faith, a stronger faith,
I want to feel it's power within;
I want to feel more love to God,
I want to feel less love to sin.

I want to live above the world,
And count it all but trash and toys;
I want more tokens of God's grace,
Some foretaste of eternal joys.

I want - I know not what I want,
I want that real, special good;
Yet all my wants are summed up here,
I want to love! I want my God!

Is this the point you long to know?
The dead can neither feel nor see;
It is the slave that's bound in chains,
That knows the worth of liberty.

So where a want like this is found,
I think I may be bold to say:
That God has fixed within thy heart,
What hell can never take away.

However small thy grace appears,
There's plenty in thy Living Head;
These wants you feel, my Christian friend,
Were never found amongst the dead.