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What poor returns I make to thee
And must I ever smart,
To soothe each rising tear;
No Rest but Christ.
WHEN Jesus' gracious hand
The wilderness appears! No healing balm springs from its dust,
No cooling stream to quench the thirst! 2 Yet long I vainly sought
A resting-place below,
Where living waters flow;
And my poor heart cries out for God. 3 Lord, enter in my breast,
And with me sup and stay;
Who tarries but a day;
And pull each fancy idol down. 4 My sorrow thou canst see, For thou dost read my heart;
It pineth after thee,
And yet from thee will start; Reclaim thy roving child at last,
And fix my heart and bind it fast. 5 I would be near thy feet,
Or at thy bleeding side;
And see its purple tide;
The Power is of God.
How sinners vaunt of power
Of worth they seem to have,
Build up and bolster sandy hopes! 2 But God must work the will
And power to run the race;
A work of freest grace;
Brings all the will and power forth. 3 Disciples who are taught,
Their helplessness to feel,
But work with care and skill;
4 They feel a daily need
Of Jesus' gracious store,
And yet are always poor;
The Lord finds pasture for his sheep. 5 Renew, O Lord, my strength
And vigour every day,
Ye wretched sinners, come;
And plead what he has done. 2 “How can I come?” some soul may say,
“I'm lame, and cannot walk; My guilt and sin have stopp'd my mouth;
I sigh, but dare not talk."
Though lost, and blind, and lame;
And ever was the same,
He makes the blind to see;
5 Come boldly to the throne of grace,
For Jesus fills the throne;
He hears the sigh or groan. 6 Poor bankrupt souls, who feel and know
The hell of sin within,
The Lord will take you in.
Above these creature things!
As though on eagles' wings. 2 But ah! I feel no love at all,
Can neither praise nor pray;
And turn this night to day! 3 But whither can I go to lodge
My sorrow and complaint? Unless the Lord is pleased to shine,
I mope, I grieve, I faint. 4 I find my striving all in vain,
Unless my Lord is near; My heart is hard; I'm such a wretch
Can neither love nor fear.
For here I would begin:
To save me from my sin?
6 The souls redeem'd by precious blood
Are taught this lesson well;
But Christ who saves from hell.
To supplicate thy grace;
We want to see thy face. 2 Thou know'st, dear Lord, for what we're come
Each heart is known to thee;
And bid us all go free.
We come just as we are;
And drive away our fear.
May each one wrestle too;
And cheer us ere we go.
And feel its power within; And glory in our surety, Christ,
Who bore our curse and sin.
In spite of every foe;