For a Preacher of the Gospel, Hymn 8

O Thou great almighty Lord,
How can I declare Thy word,
Least of all Thy servants I,
Weak as helpless infancy!
Sunk in shame, and deep amaze,
On Thine outstretch'd hand I gaze,
Ask again, How can it be
The great God should send by me!

But Thou know'st this heart of mine
Fain I would the work decline,
Most unworthy as I am,
Most unfit to bear Thy name:
O how often have I cried,
Send by whom Thou wilt beside:
Still I plead for my release,
Let me, Lord, depart in peace.

Conscious to myself, I pray
Take me from the evil day,
From the thing I always fear
Save Thy weakest messenger;
Jealous for Thine honour be,
Do not trust Thy cause to me;
Me, a man of lips unclean,
Me, the sinfullest of men:

Weary, burden'd, and oppress'd,
Stranger to delight, and rest,
How can I beneath my load
Preach redemption in Thy blood?
Looking every fearful day
To become a castaway,
How shall I in sorrow tell

But Thou know'st, a sharper pain
Every moment I sustain,
Saviour, for Thy glorious cause,
Lest by me it suffer loss.
Do not, O my Help, my Hope,
Jesus, do not give me up,
Never let me live to be
A reproach to Thine and Thee.

Jealous for Thy own great name,
Let me not be put to shame;
Make my perseverance sure,
In the quiet grave secure:
Rid me of my life and fear;
Safe retreat is conquest here,
Happy, and triumphant I,
Suffer' d to escape, and die!