1 Laden with guilt, and full of fears, I fly to thee, my Lord, And not a glimpse of hope appears, But in thy written word.
2 The volume of my Father's grace Does all my griefs assuage: Here I behold my Saviour's face Almost in every page.
3 [This is the field where hidden lies The pearl of price unknown, That merchant is divinely wise Who makes the pearl his own.]
4 [Here consecrated water flows To quench my thirst of sin; Here the fair tree of knowledge grows, Nor danger dwells therein.]
5 This is the Judge that ends the strife, Where wit and reason fail; My guide to everlasting life, Thro' all this gloomy vale.
6 O may thy counsels, mighty God, My roving feet command; Nor I forsake the happy road That leads to thy right-hand.