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Hymn 12

John Newton


The effort.


Approach, my soul, the mercy–seat

Where JESUS answers prayer;

There humbly fall before his feet,

For none can perish there.

Thy promise is my only plea,

With this I venture nigh;

Thou callest burdened souls to thee,

And such, O LORD, am I.

Bowed down beneath a load of sin,

By Satan sorely pressed;

By war without, and fears within,

I come to thee for rest.

Be thou my shield and hiding–place!

That, sheltered near thy side,

I may my fierce accuser face,

And tell him, “Thou hast died.”

Oh wondrous love! to bleed and die,

To bear the cross and shame;

That guilty sinners, such as I,

Might plead thy gracious name.

“Poor tempest–tossed soul, be still,

My promised grace receive;”

’Tis JESUS speaks—I must, I will,

I can, I do believe.

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