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?