The Good That I Would Do, I Do Not

I

  I would, but cannot sing⁠—
  Guilt has untuned my voice,
The serpent sin’s envenom’d sting
  Has poison’d all my joys.

II

  I know the Lord is nigh,
  And would, but cannot pray;
For Satan meets me when I try,
  And frights my soul away.

III

  I would, but can’t repent,
  Though I endeavour oft;
This stony heart can ne’er relent
  Till Jesus make it soft.

IV

  I would, but cannot love,
  Though woo’d by love divine:
No arguments have power to move
  A soul so base as mine.

V

  I would, but cannot rest
  In God’s most holy will;
I know what he appoints is best,
  Yet murmur at it still.

VI

  O could I but believe!
  Then all would easy be;
I would, but cannot⁠—Lord, relieve;
  My help must come from thee!

VII

  But if indeed I would,
  Though I can nothing do;
Yet the desire is something good,
  For which my praise is due.

VIII

  By nature prone to ill,
  Till thine appointed hour,
I was as destitute of will,
  As now I am of power.

IX

  Wilt thou not crown at length
  The work thou hast begun,
And with a will afford me strength
  In all thy ways to run?