3 Just as I am, though tossed about With many a conflict, many a doubt, With fears within, and foes without— O Lamb of God, I come.
4 Just as I am, poor, wretched, blind; Sight, riches, healing of the mind, Yea, all I need, in thee to find, O Lamb of God, I come.
5 Just as I am, thou wilt receive, Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve, Because thy promise I believe— O Lamb of God, I come.
6 Just as I am—thy love unknown, Has broken every barrier down; Now to be thine, yea, thine alone, O Lamb of God, I come.
344 L. M. God, be merciful to me a sinner. Luke 18:13.
Hear, gracious God! a sinner’s cry, For I have nowhere else to fly; My hope, my only hope’s in thee; O God, be merciful to me!
2 To thee I come, a sinner poor, And wait for mercy at thy door; Indeed, I’ve nowhere else to flee; O God, be merciful to me!
3 To thee I come, a sinner weak, And scarce know how to pray or speak; From fear and weakness set me free; O God, be merciful to me!
4 To thee I come, a sinner vile; Upon me, Lord, vouchsafe to smile! Mercy alone I make my plea; O God, be merciful to me!
5 To thee I come, a sinner great, And well thou knowest all my state; Yet full forgiveness is with thee; O God, be merciful to me!
6 To thee I come, a sinner lost, Nor have I aught wherein to trust, But where thou art, Lord, I would be, O God, be merciful to me!
345 L. M. The love of Christ constraineth. 2 Cor. 5:14.
Lord, when my thoughts delighted rove Amid the wonders of thy love, Sweet hope revives my drooping heart, And bids intruding fears depart.
2 For mortal crimes a sacrifice, The Lord of life, the Saviour dies; What love! what mercy! how divine! Jesus, and can I call thee mine?
3 Repentant sorrows fill my heart, But mingling joy allays the smart; O, may my future life declare This sorrow and the joy sincere.
4 Be all my heart and all my days Devoted to my Saviour’s praise; And let my glad obedience prove How much I owe, how much I love.
346 L. M. The contrite heart.
Show pity, Lord; O Lord forgive; Let a repentant rebel live; Are not thy mercies large and free? May not a sinner trust in thee?
2 My crimes, though great, can not surpass The power and glory of thy grace; Great God, thy nature hath no bound; So let thy pardoning love be found.
3 O, wash my soul from every sin, And make my guilty conscience clean; Here, on my heart, the burden lies, And past offenses pain my eyes.
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.
5 Should sudden vengeance seize my breath, I must pronounce thee just in death; And if my soul were sent to hell, Thy righteous law approves it well.
6 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.
347 L. M. Restore unto to me the joy of thy salvation. Psalm 51.
A broken heart, my God, my King, Is all the sacrifice I bring; The God of grace will ne’er despise A broken heart for sacrifice.
2 My soul lies humbled in the dust, And owns thy dreadful sentence just; Look down, O Lord, with pitying eye, And save the soul condemned to die.
3 Then will I teach the world thy ways; Sinners shall learn thy sovereign grace; I’ll lead them to my Saviour’s blood, And they shall praise a pardoning God.
4 O, may thy love inspire my tongue! Salvation shall be all my song; And all my powers shall join to bless The Lord, my Strength and Righteousness.
348 L. M. 6 lines. Here is my heart.
Here is my heart—I give it thee! My God, I heard thee call, and say, “Not to the world, my child—to me!” I heard thy voice and will obey; Here is love’s offering to my King, Which in glad sacrifice I bring.
2 Here is my heart! so hard before, But now by thy rich grace made meet; Yet bruised and sad, it can but pour Its tears and anguish at thy feet: It groans beneath the weight of sin, It sighs salvation’s joy to win.
3 Here is my heart! its longings end In Christ as near his cross it draws; It says, “Thou art my rest, my Friend, Thy precious blood my ransom was;” In thee, the Saviour, it has found That peace and blessedness abound.
349 L. M. 6 lines. Bethesda.
Around Bethesda’s healing wave, Waiting to hear the rustling wind Which spoke the angel nigh, who gave Its virtue to that holy spring, With patience and with hope endued, Were seen the gathered multitude.
2 Bethesda’s pool has lost its power! No angel, by his glad descent Dispenses that diviner dower Which with its healing waters went; But he, whose word surpassed its wave, Is still omnipotent to save.