The Effort-in Another Measure

I

Approach, my soul, the mercy-seat
Where Jesus answers pray’r;
There humbly fall before his feet,
For none can perish there.

II

Thy promise is my only plea,
With this I venture nigh:
Thou callest burden’d souls to thee,
And such, O Lord, am I.

III

Bow’d down beneath a load of sin,
By Satan sorely press’d;
By war without and fears within,
I come to thee for rest.

IV

Be thou my shield and hiding-place!
That, shelter’d near thy side,
I may my fierce accuser face,
And tell him, Thou hast died.

V

Oh wond’rous love, to bleed and die,
To bear the cross and shame,
That guilty sinners, such as I,
Might plead thy gracious name.

VI

“Poor tempest-tossed soul, be still,
My promised grace receive;”
’Tis Jesus speaks⁠—I must, I will,
I can, I do believe.