LYRIC

1 O Thou, whose tender mercy hears
Contrition’s humble sigh,
Whose hand indulgent wipes the tears
From sorrow’s weeping eye;

2 See, low before Thy throne of grace,
A wretched wanderer mourn;
Hast Thou not bid me seek Thy face?
Hast Thou not said, return?

3 And shall my guilty fears prevail
To drive me from Thy feet?
O let not this dear refuge fail,
This only safe retreat!

4 O shine on this benighted heart,
With beams of mercy shine!
And let Thy healing voice impart
A taste of joys divine.

5 Thy presence only can bestow
Delights which never cloy:
Be this my solace here below,
And my eternal joy!


Added by

Blessy Christlin

SHARE

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *