Hebrews 12:2

Looking unto Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our
faith:'

WEARY of struggling with my pain,
Hopeless to burst my nature's chain,
Hardly I give the contest o'er,
I seek to free myself no more.

From my own works at last I cease,
God that creates must seal my peace;
Fruitless my toil and vain my care,
And all my fitness is despair.

Lord, I despair myself to heal:
I see my sin, but cannot feel;
I cannot, till Thy Spirit blow,
And bid the' obedient waters flow.

Tis Thine a heart of flesh to give;
Thy gifts I only can receive:
Here then to Thee I all resign;
To draw, redeem, and seal is Thine.

With simple faith, to Thee I call,
My Light, my Life, my Lord, my All:
I wait the moving of the pool;
I wait the word that speaks me whole.

Speak, gracious Lord, my sickness cure,
Make my infected nature pure;
Peace, righteousness, and joy impart,
And pour Thyself into my heart.