1 O God, whose favorable eye
The sin-sick soul revives;
Holy and heav'nly is the joy,
Thy shining presence gives.
2 This hypocrites have ne'er believ'd,
They judge with graceless hearts;
Swell'd with their pride, they are deceiv'd,
By Satan's wily arts.
3 Unholy, selfish joys are theirs,
And while they boast their light,
And seem to soar above the stars,
They're plunging into night.
4 Lull'd in a soft and formal sleep,
They sin and yet rejoice,
Were they indeed the Saviour's sheep,
They sure would hear his voice?
5 Be mine the comforts that reclaim
The soul from Satan's pow'r;
That make me blush for what I am,
And hate my sin the more.
6 'Tis joy enough, my All in All,
At thy dear feet to lie;
Thou wilt not let me lower fall
And none can higher fly.
Text Information | |
---|---|
First Line: | O God, whose favorable eye |
Title: | True and false comforts |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1799 |
Topic: | Comforts: True and false |