1 Approach, my soul, the mercy-seat,
Where Jesus answers pray'r;
There humbly fall before his feet,
For none can perish there.
2 Thy promise is my only plea,
With this I venture nigh;
Thou callest burden'd souls to thee,
And such, O Lord, am I.
3 Bow'd down beneath a load of sin,
By Satan sorely prest,
By wars without, and fears within,
I come to thee for rest.
4 Be thou my shield and hiding place!
That, shelter'd near thy side,
I may my fierce accuser face,
And tell him, "thou hast dy'd.
5 O wond'rous love! to bleed and die,
To bear the cross and shame;
That guilty sinners such as I,
Might plead thy gracious name.
6 "Poor tempest-tossed soul be still,
My promis'd grace receive;"
'Tis Jesus speaks, I must, I will,
I can, I do believe.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Approach, my soul, the mercy-seat |
Title: | The Effort--In Another Measure |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1803 |