7 No choice, endeavour, or desire, Motion, or will have I to turn ; Extinguish'd is the trembling fire Which once in me began to burn : What have I now whereof to boast? My all is gone, my God is lost. 8 See then the sinner stript of all, Of every spark of goodness void; 9 My mouth is stopp'd, and guilty now THE BACKSLIDER. I SURELY in the Lord we have Both strength and righteousness; Jesus mighty is to save The sinner in distress. Jesu's blood, on which we stay, Cleanses us from every stain; Takes the guilt of sin away, Nor lets the power remain. The Backslider. 2 Why then, O my Saviour, why (If mine indeed Thou art) Am I thus? a sinner I, 3 And still unclean of heart? Through faith my sins forgiven? And strangely raised to heaven? 4 What, alas! I once have been I the servant am of sin, While to its yoke I bow: While the love of sin remains, Christ in me can never dwell; Christ with Belial never reigns, Nor mixes heaven with hell. 5 Can unholy actions suit With one that is in Thee? If the tree (the heart) were good, 111 6 Can the self-same fountain yield Can Satan find a seat? 7 See, I give up all at last, My boasted gifts disclaim; That I may Thy mercy move; 8 If but one good thought could buy Full of guilt and misery, Saviour, at Thy feet I fall; See, the unbeliever see, The sinner stript of all! 9 Let me never, never more I hear Thy voice and live: Let me, humbled in the dust, Wait to taste how good Thou art; See, and feel, but never trust My own deceitful heart. I 2 3 The Backslider. IO O that I could truly wait ANOTHER. O, THE dire effects of sin! Since first from grace I fell? Till I believe in Thee. O, the load my spirit bears, Did I ever Thee behold? Thee did I ever truly know? VOL. II. Nor let my Saviour go. Did I not my soul deceive With groundless hopes of heaven? Did I, Lord, indeed believe, And was I once forgiven? I 113 4 5 Still I ask, but no reply: O, bid me, bid me come to Thee; Hear me still myself bemoan, O that my heart were broke! Turn me, and I shall be turn'd, Me Thou wouldst not disregard, Were I indeed sincere ; But my heart, alas! is hard, And void of love and fear; Seldom can I lift mine eyes, Or offer Thee an hearty groan : Take, if Thou wouldst have me rise, I AH! my dear, loving Lord, Ten thousand wants have I ; And Thou hast bid me always cry, |