11
The Effort
I
Cheer up, my soul, there is a mercy-seat,
Sprinkled with blood, where Jesus answers pray’r;
There humbly cast thyself beneath his feet,
For never needy sinner perish’d there.
II
Lord, I am come! thy promise is my plea.
Without thy word I durst not venture nigh!
But thou hast call’d the burden’d soul to thee,
A weary burden’d soul, Lord, am I!
III
Bow’d down beneath a heavy load of sin,
By Satan’s fierce temptations sorely press’d,
Beset without, and full of fears within,
Trembling and faint, I come to thee for rest.
IV
Be thou my refuge, Lord, my hiding-place!
I know no force can tear me from thy side;
Unmoved I then may all accusers face,
And answer every charge with “Jesus died.”
V
Yes, thou didst weep and bleed and groan and die—
Well hast thou known what fierce temptations mean—
Such was thy love, and now, enthroned on high,
The same compassions in thy bosom reign.
VI
Lord, give me faith—he hears—what grace is this!
Dry up thy tears, my soul, and cease to grieve:
He shows me what he did, and who he is,
I must, I will, I can, I do believe.