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C. Complaining,-- The good that I would I do not

1 I would, but cannot sing,
I would, but cannot pray;
For Satan meets me when I try,
And frights my soul away.

2 I would but can't repent,
Tho' I endeavor oft;
This stony heart can ne'er relent,
'Till Jesus makes it soft.

3 I would but cannot love,
Tho' woo'd by love divine;
No arguments have power to move
A soul so base as mine.

I would, but cannot rest
In God's most holy will;
I know what he appoints is best,
Yet murmur at it still.

5 O could I but believe!
Then all would easy be;
I would but cannot--Lord, relieve;
My help must come from thee!

6 But if indeed I would,
Tho' I can nothing do;
Yet the desire is something good,
For which my praise is due.

7 By nature prone to ill,
'Till thine appointed hour,
I was as destitute of will,
As now I am of power.

8 Wilt thou not crown at length,
The work thou hast begun?
And with a will afford me strength,
In all thy ways to run.

Text Information
First Line: I would, but cannot sing
Title: Complaining,-- The good that I would I do not
Language: English
Publication Date: 1802
Scripture:
Tune Information
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