Father of mercies, God of love,

Whose bowels of compassion move

To sinful worms, whose arms embrace,

And strain to hold a struggling race!

With me still let Thy Spirit strive;

Have patience, till my heart I give;

Assist me to obey Thy call,

And give me power to pay Thee all.

If now my nature’s weight I feel,

And groan to render up my will,

Not long the kind relentings stay,

The morning vapour fleets away.

A monster to myself I am,

Ashamed to feel no deeper shame

Pain’d, that my pain so soon is o’er,

And grieved that I can grieve no more.

O, who shall save the man of sin?

O, when shall end this war within?

How shall my captive soul break through?

Who shall attempt my rescue? Who?

A wretch from sin and death set free—

Answer, O, answer, Christ, for me,

The grace of an accepting God,

The virtue of a Saviour’s blood.