The Power of Grace

I

Happy the birth where grace presides,
To form the future life!
In wisdom’s path the soul she guides,
Remote from noise and strife.

II

Since I have known the Saviour’s name,
And what for me he bore;
No more I toil for empty fame,
I thirst for gold no more.

III

Placed by his hand in this retreat,
I make his love my theme,
And see that all the world calls great
Is but a waking dream.

IV

Since he has rank’d my worthless name
Amongst his favour’d few,
Let the mad world, who scoff at them,
Revile and hate me too.

V

O thou whose voice the dead can raise,
And soften hearts of stone,
And teach the dumb to sing thy praise,
This work is all thine own!

VI

Thy wond’ring saints rejoice to see
A wretch like me restored,
And point and say⁠—“How changed is he
Who once defied the Lord!”

VII

Grace bid me live, and taught my tongue
To aim at notes divine;
And grace accepts my feeble song⁠—
The glory, Lord, be thine!