|
|
As body when the soul has fled,
As barren trees, decayed and dead,
Is faith; a hopeless, lifeless thing,
If not of righteous deeds the spring.
One cup of healing oil and wine,
One tear-drop shed on mercy’s shrine,
In thrice more grateful, Lord, to thee,
Than lifted eye or bended knee.
To doers only of the word,
Propitious is the righteous Lord;
He hears their cries, accepts their prayers,
And heals their wounds, and soothes the cares.
In true and genuine faint, we trace
The source of every Christian grace;
Within the pious heart it plays,
A living fount of joy and praise.
Kind deeds of peace and love betray
Where’er the streams has found its way;
But where these springs not rich and fair,
The stream has never wandered there.
|
marker 99
|
LYRICS
Meter:
|
8 8 8 8 (L.M.)
|
Writer(s):
|
|
Trans/Adapted:
|
|
Dates:
|
|
Bible Refs:
|
|
LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
Hymn/Song Book
|
Year
|
Song #
|
| 1851 | # 345 |
echo ' | ';
|