Hymns for Love, 7

O That I could but pray!
O that I could but love!
Take, gracious Lord, the stone away,
The secret bar remove;
Help by Thy Spirit's might
My soul's infirmity,
To wrestle for the pure delight.
The love which flows from Thee.

O might I look and mourn
O'er my Redeemer slain,
And never more to sin return,
Or pierce my Lord again!
Repentance deep and true,
Thou slaughter'd Lamb impart,
As crucified appear in view,
And break this stubborn heart.

I cannot pray aright,
I cannot pray at all.
Till vantjuish'd by that piteous sight
Before Thy cross I fall:
Thy hands and side reveal,
Thy all-victorious blood,
And let the balmy virtue heal
My base ingratitude.

How shall I plead with Thee?
Assist me to declare,
Thy bowels sounding on the tree,
Thy strong affection there,
Thy grace and fervent zeal
By agonies Divine,
To save from sin, and death, and hell,
This dear-bought soul of mine!

This, this is all my hope,
Thy charity's excess
Shall lift the dying sinner up,
Thy blood shall seal my peace,
Shall wash my sins away;
And when the power I prove
I only live to praise and pray.
To weep, adore, and love.