O where is the Saviour

I scorn'd in times past? His word in my favour Would save me at last.

Lord Jesus, on Thee

I venture to call:

O look upon me,

The vilest of all!

For whom didst thou languish

And bleed on the tree?

O pity my anguish,

And

say, "'Twas for thee.'

A case such as mine

Will honour Thy power;

All hell will repine,

All heaven adore. If in condemnation

Strict justice takes place,

It shines in salvation

More glorious through grace.

7. BEHOLD, I AM VILE!

O LORD, how vile am I,
Unholy and unclean!

How can I dare to venture nigh
With such a load of sin?

Is this polluted heart

A dwelling fit for Thee; Swarming, alas! in every part, What evils do I see!

If I attempt to pray,

And lisp Thy holy name,
My thoughts are hurried soon away,
I know not where I am.

If in Thy Word I look,

Such darkness fills my mind,
I only read a sealed book,
But no relief can find.

Thy Gospel oft I hear,

But hear it still in vain; Without desire, or love, or fear, I like a stone remain.

Myself can hardly bear

This wretched heart of mine; How hateful then must it appear To those pure eyes of Thine!

And must I then indeed

Sink in despair and die!

Fain would I hope that Thou didst bleed

For such a wretch as I.

That blood which Thou hast spilt, That grace which is Thine own, Can cleanse the vilest sinner's guilt, And soften hearts of stone.

Low at Thy feet I bow,

O pity and forgive!

Here will I lie, and wait till Thou Shalt bid me rise and live.

8. C. THE SHINING LIGHT.

My former hopes are fled,
My terror now begins;
I feel, alas! that I am dead
In trespasses and sins.

Ah! whither shall I fly?

I hear the thunder roar;
The law proclaims destruction nigh,
And vengeance at the door.

When I review my ways,
I dread impending doom;
But sure a friendly whisper says,
'Flee from the wrath to come!'

I see, or think I see,

A glimmering from afar!

A beam of day that shines for me,
To save me from despair.

My soul is beset

With grief and dismay,
I owe a vast debt,

And nothing can pay;
I must go to prison,
Unless that dear Lord
Who died and is risen
His pity afford.

The death that He died,
The blood that He spilt,
To sinners applied,
Discharge from all guilt:
This great Intercessor

Can give, if He please,
The vilest transgressor
Immediate release.

When nail'd to the Tree,
He answer'd the pray'r
Of one who, like me,
Was nigh to despair; †

* Psalm cxxx. 6.

† Luke xxiii. 43.