O that I knew where I might find

My righteous Judge's seat,

To pour out all my troubled mind

In prayer before His feet!

Not with the thunder of Thy power

Wouldst Thou against me plead;

No, Thy good Spirit, in that hour,

For me would intercede.

For me, Thy Son Himself would pray,

Thy well-beloved Son;

Father! Thou couldst not turn away

From Thine anointed One.

Thine own unutterable grace,

Thy love,--Thy love to me,

Constrain me thus to seek Thy face,

And cast my cares on Thee.

Hear, then the voice of my desire,

My griefs, my fears behold;

Search me and try me, as with fire,

And bring me forth like gold.

Lord! thou hast troubled my repose,

Thy chastisements I feel;

Thine hand hath touch'd my heart--it glows,

It melts,--impress Thy seal.

Stamp Thine own Image on my soul,

Lift from the dust mine head;

Lord! Thou hast wounded,--make me whole;

Hast slain,--now raise the dead.