Hannah; or the Throne of Grace

I

When Hannah, press’d with grief,
Pour’d forth her soul in pray’r;
She quickly found relief,
And left her burden there:
Like her, in every trying case
Let us approach the throne of grace.

II

When she began to pray,
Her heart was pain’d and sad;
But ere she went away
Was comforted and glad.
In trouble what a resting-place
Have they who know the throne of grace!

III

Though men and devils rage,
And threaten to devour,
The saints from age to age
Are safe from all their power;
Fresh strength they gain to run their race
By waiting at the throne of grace.

IV

Eli her case mistook;
How was her spirit moved
By his unkind rebuke!
But God her cause approved.
We need not fear a creature’s face
While welcome at the throne of grace.

V

She was not fill’d with wine,
As Eli rashly thought,
But with a faith divine,
And found the help she sought.
Though men despise and call us base,
Still let us ply the throne of grace.

VI

Men have not power or skill
With troubled souls to bear;
Though they express good-will.
Poor comforters they are:
But swelling sorrows sink apace
When we approach the throne of grace.

VII

Numbers before have tried,
And found the promise true;
Nor yet one been denied,
Then why should I or you?
Let us by faith their footsteps trace,
And hasten to the throne of grace.

VIII

As fogs obscure the light,
And taint the morning air,
But soon are put to flight
If the bright sun appear,
Thus Jesus will our troubles chase,
By shining from the throne of grace.