Behold the throne of grace!

The promise calls me near;

There Jesus shows a smiling face,

And waits to answer prayer.

That rich atoning blood,

Which sprinkled round I see;

Provides for those who come to God,

An all–prevailing plea.

My soul ask what thou wilt,

Thou canst not be too bold;

Since his own blood for thee he spilt,

What else can he withhold.

Beyond thy utmost wants

His love and pow’r can bless;

To praying souls he always grants,

More than they can express.

Since ’tis the Lord’s command,

My mouth I open wide;

Lord open thou thy bounteous hand,

That I may be supplied.

Thine image, LORD, bestow,

Thy presence and thy love;

I ask to serve thee here below,

And reign with thee above.

Teach me to live by faith,

Conform my will to thine;

Let me victorious be in death,

And then in glory shine.

If Thou these blessings give,

And wilt my portion be;

Cheerful the world’s poor toys I leave,

To them who know not thee.