For One Convinced of Unbelief, Hymn 6

How long, Thou hidden God unknown,
Wilt Thou Thy mournful creature see,
Distrest, and dark; yet wandering on,
And blindly feeling after Thee,
Thee, whom I cannot yet attain,
Thee, whom I seem to seek in vain?

An outcast from Thy blissful face,
Stranger to peace, and faith, and power,
I ask, nor have Thy pardoning grace,
I knock at faith's unopen'd door,
Nor can I yet admitted be,
But still the door is shut to me.

What is it makes my Saviour stay,
So strong, and ready to redeem?
Can Jesus will the' unkind delay,
Or cast me out who come to Him,
Or not the secret bar remove,
If still I stop His pardoning love?

He will, I dare believe, He will
His way into my heart prepare:
But let me wait Thy leisure still,
My passionate complaints forbear,
And give my rash impatience o'er,
And murmur for relief no more.

When my relief shall most display
Thy glory in Thy creature's good,
Then, Saviour, take the veil away,
Sprinkle me with the' atoning blood,
The power of living faith impart,
And breathe Thy love into my heart.