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Verse 1

Oh, that my load of sin were gone;
Oh, that I could at last submit
At Jesus’ feet to lay it down--
To lay my soul at Jesus’ feet.

Verse 2

Rest for my soul I long to find;
Savior of all, if mine thou art,
Give me the meek and lowly mind,
And stamp thine image on my heart.

Verse 3

Break off the yoke of inbred sin,
And fully set my spirit free;
I cannot rest till pure within--
Till I am wholly lost in thee.

Verse 4

Fain would I learn of thee, my God;
Thy light and easy burden prove;
The cross all stained with hallowed blood,
The labor of thy dying love.

Verse 5

I would, but thou must give the power;
My heart from every sin release;
Bring near, bring near the joyful hour,
And fill me with thy perfect peace.

Verse 1

Show pity, Lord, O Lord, forgive;
Let a repenting rebel live;
Are not thy mercies large and free?
May not a sinner trust in thee?

Verse 2

My crimes, though great, cannot surpass
The power and glory of thy grace;
Great God, thy nature hath no bound,
So let thy pard’ning love be found.

Verse 3

Oh, wash my soul from every sin,
And make my guilty conscience clean;
Here, on my heart, the burden lies
And past offenses pain mine eyes.

Verse 4

My lips with shame my sins confess,
Against thy law, against thy grace;
Lord, should thy judgment grow severe,
I am condemned, but thou art clear.

Verse 5

Yet save a trembling sinner, Lord,
Whose hope, still hovering round thy word,
Would light on some sweet promise there,
Some sure support against despair.

Verse 1

Lord, I am thine, entirely thine,
Purchased and saved by blood divine,
With full consent thine I would be,
And own thy sovereign right in me.

Verse 2

Grant one poor sinner more a place
Among the children of thy grace;
A wretched sinner, lost to God,
But ransomed by Immanuel’s blood.

Verse 3

Thine would I live, thine would I die,
Be thine through all eternity;
The vow is past beyond repeal;
And now I set the solemn seal.

Verse 4

Here at that cross where flows the blood,
That bought my guilty soul for God,
Thee, my new Master now I call,
And consecrate to thee my all.

Verse 1

Sometimes a light surprises
The Christian while he sings:
It is the Lord who rises
With healing on his wings;
When comforts are declining,
He grants the soul again
A season of clear shining,
To cheer it after rain.

Verse 2

In holy contemplation,
We sweetly then pursue
The theme of God’s salvation,
And find it ever new:
Set free from present sorrow,
We cheerfully can say,
Let the unknown to-morrow
Bring with it what it may.

Verse 1

God is the refuge of his saints,
When storms of sharp distress invade.
Ere we can offer our complaints,
Behold him present with his aid.

Verse 2

Let mountains from their seats be hurled
Down to the deep, and buried there;
Convulsions shake the solid world;—
Our faith shall never yield to fear.

Verse 3

There is a stream, whose gentle flow
Supplies the city of our God;
Life, love, and joy still gliding through,
And watering our divine abode:—

Verse 4

That sacred stream, thy holy word,—
That all our raging fear controls:
Sweet peace thy promises afford,
And give new strength to fainting souls.

Verse 1

“Come,” said Jesus’ sacred voice,
“Come, and make My paths your choice;
I will guide you to your home,
Weary pilgrim, hither come.”

Verse 2

Thou who houseless, sole, forlorn,
Long hast borne the proud world’s scorn,
Long hast roamed the barren waste,
Weary pilgrim, hither haste.

Verse 3

Ye who, tossed on beds of pain,
Seek for ease, but seek in vain;
Ye, by fiercer anguish torn,
In remorse for guilt who mourn;

Verse 4

“Hither come, for here is found
Balm that flows for every wound,
Peace that ever shall endure,
Rest eternal, sacred, sure.”

Verse 1

God is the Refuge of His saints
When storms of sharp distress invade:
Ere we can offer our complaints,
Behold Him present with His aid.

Verse 2

Let mountains from their seats be hurled
Down to the deep, and buried there,
Convulsions shake the solid world,
Our faith shall never yield to fear.

Verse 3

Loud may the troubled ocean roar;
In sacred peace our souls abide,
While every nation, every shore,
Trembles, and dreads the swelling tide.

Verse 4

There is a stream whose gentle flow
Supplies the city of our God;
Life, love, and joy, still gliding through,
And watering our Divine abode.

Verse 5

That sacred stream, Thy holy word,
Our grief allays, our fear controls;
Sweet peace Thy promises afford,
And give new strength to fainting souls.

Verse 6

Zion enjoys her Monarch’s love,
Secure against a threatening hour;
Nor can her firm foundations move,
Built on His truth, and armed with power.

Verse 1

“Come,” said Jesus’ sacred voice,
“Come, and make My paths your choice;
I will guide you to your home,
Weary pilgrim, hither come.”

Verse 2

Thou who houseless, sole, forlorn,
Long hast borne the proud world’s scorn,
Long hast roamed the barren waste,
Weary pilgrim, hither haste.

Verse 3

Ye who, tossed on beds of pain,
Seek for ease, but seek in vain;
Ye, by fiercer anguish torn,
In remorse for guilt who mourn;

Verse 4

“Hither come, for here is found
Balm that flows for every wound,
Peace that ever shall endure,
Rest eternal, sacred, sure.”