1 Thou Fountain of bliss, thy smile I entreat;
O’erwhelmed with distress I mourn at thy feet;
The joy of salvation, when shall it be mine?
The high consolation of friendship divine!
2 Awakened to see the depth of my fall,
For mercy on thee I earnestly call;
’Tis thine the lost sinner to save and renew;
Faith’s mighty Beginner and Finisher too.
3 Thy Spirit alone repentance implants,
And gives me to groan at feeling my wants;
’Midst all my dejection, dear Lord, I can trace
Some marks of election, some tokens of grace.
4 Thou wilt not despise a sinner distressed;
All-kind and all-wise, thy season is best.
To thy sovereign pleasure resigned I would be,
And tarry at leisure, and hope still in thee.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Thou Fountain of bliss, thy smile I entreat |
Author: | Toplady |
Meter: | 104th |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1844 |
Scripture: | |
Topic: | Fruits of the Spirit: Humility |