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How blest the man, whose conscious grief
From Thee, great God! hath found relief
Whose guilt thy boundless love hath veiled
His fears composed, his weakness healed.
With same our numerous crimes we own:
Prostrate we fall before thy throne;
To thee our inmost guilt disclose,
And in thy bosom pour our woes.
O grant, while yet our hands we rear,
The voice of love may greet our ear:
Thy Spirit send, speak peace within,
And seal the pardon of our sin.
For this thy saints, who seek thy face
Ere yet is past the day of grace,
To thee with steadfast hope repair,
To thee address the’ unwearied prayer.
So when the storms and tempests lour,
And floods of wrath their torrents pour,
They, from the floods and stormy wind,
In thee a Hiding-Place shall find.
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marker 99
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LYRICS
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Meter:
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8 8 8 8 (L.M.)
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Writer(s):
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Trans/Adapted:
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Dates:
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1829
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Bible Refs:
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Ps 32;
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echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
