My Saviour, when Thy law demands
Full satisfaction at Thy hands,
Faith points to Thine atonement made,
And pleads Thy full obedience paid.
O God, Thou art my righteousness;
A robe of light-a spotless dress;
Thyself my title to Thy love,
And to my heritage above.
Guilt cannot fill my soul with dread,
When thus attir'd I lift my head:
Not angels have so high a claim
As sinners pardon'd in Thy name.
Clothed with Thy Son, Thou glorious Majesty, A wretched sinner at Thy feet I lie!
T' avenge my guilt, should justice raise the rod, It first must strike Saviour and my
I do not plead, to gain Thy clemency,
My penitential tears-my heart-felt cry ;
No: from the hateful sinner turn Thine eyes,
Look on Thy dying Son, accept His sacrifice.
In Him, in Him alone, I put my trust;
My all is sin and misery, guilt and dust-
But, hateful as I am, and self-abhorr'd,
Receive, accept me, in my sinless Lord.
FROM THE FRENCH.
Jesus, Thy blood and righteousness
My beauty are, my glorious dress;
'Midst flaming worlds, in these array'd,
With joy shall I lift up my head.
When, from the dust of death, I rise
To take my mansion in the skies,
E'en then shall this be all my plea,
"Jesus hath liv'd-hath died for me!
Bold shall I stand in that great day,
For who ought to my charge shall lay?
Fully through Thee absolv'd I am
From sin and fear, from guilt and shame.
This spotless robe the same appears,
When ruin'd Nature sinks in years;
No age can change its glorious hue;
The robe of Christ is ever new.
And when the dead shall hear Thy voice,
Then, Lord, Thy children shall rejoice;
Their beauty this, their glorious dress,
Jesus, the Lord our Righteousness.
Though sin would fill me with distress,
The throne of grace I dare address,
For Jesus is my Righteousness,
Though cold my prayers, and faint my love,
My steadfast hope shall not remove,
While Jesus intercedes above.
No more, my God, I boast no more
Of all the duties I have done;
I quit the hopes I held before,
To trust the merits of Thy Son.
Now for the love I bear His name,
What was my gain I count my loss ;
My former pride I call my shame,
And nail my glory to His cross.
Yes, and I must and will esteem
All things but loss for Jesus' sake;
O may my soul be found in Him,
And of His righteousness partake!
The best obedience of my hands,
Dares not appear before Thy throne;
But faith can answer Thy demands,
By pleading what my Lord hath done.
O Thou, whose name we dare to own,
We come and bend before Thy throne,
Our Father and our King!
Though faint our likeness, may it prove
We are the children of Thy love,
And nurs'd beneath Thy wing.
When from this fleeting world we glide,
We'll cling to Thy once bleeding side;
Thy spotless robe will hold ;
That robe of righteousness divine,
In which Thy saints for ever shine,
And wrap them in its fold.
Holy Redeemer! born to save
Thy people from their sin,
Thy sanctifying grace I crave,
To make me clean within.
I would not, if I might, remain
Beneath the dark control
Of that, which loos'd the fiends of pain
Upon Thy righteous soul.
Oh! crush the subtle serpent's head,
And tear it from my breast:
Implant Thy nature in its stead,
And soothe my heart to rest.
I would, dear Lord! be holy too,
Be more and more like Thee,
Until Thy glorious form I view,
Thy full redemption see.
There is a fountain fill'd with blood
Drawn from Immanuel's veins ;
And sinners plung'd beneath that flood,
Lose all their guilty stains.
The dying thief rejoic`d to see
That fountain in his day;
And there would I, tho' vile as he
Wash all my sins away.
Dear dying Lamb! Thy precious blood
Shall never lose its power,
Till all the ransomed Church of God
Be saved to sin no more.
E'er since, by faith, I saw the stream
Thy flowing wounds supply,
Redeeming love has been my theme,
And shall be, till I die.
Then in a nobler, sweeter song,
I'll sing Thy power to save:
When this poor lisping stammering tongue
Lies silent in the grave.
Lord, I believe Thou hast prepar'd
(Unworthy though I be)
For me a blood-bought free reward,
A golden harp for me!
'Tis strung, and tun'd for endless years, And form'd by power divine
To sound in God the Father's ears
No other name but Thine.
Christ once, a victor bleeding,
Slew death, destroy'd the grave;
Now thron'd, yet interceding,
He lives Thy soul to save.
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