L.M.

1 JESU, whose glory's streaming rays,
Though duteous to thy high command,
Not seraphs view with open face,
But veiled before thy presence stand;

2 How shall weak eyes of flesh, weighed down
With sin, and dim with error's night,
Dare to behold thy awful throne,
Or view thy unapproached light?

3 Restore my sight! let thy free grace
An entrance to the holiest give;
Open mine eyes of faith! thy face
So shall I see; yet seeing live.

4 Thy golden sceptre from above
Reach forth: see, my whole heart I bow:
Say to my soul, "Thou art my love,
My chosen 'midst ten thousand, thou!"

5 O Jesus, full of grace! the sighs
Of a sick heart with pity view;
Hark, how my silence speaks, and cries
"Mercy, thou God of mercy, show!"

6 I know thou canst not but be good;
How shouldst thou, Lord, thy grace restrain?
Thou, Lord, whose blood so freely flowed
To save me from all guilt and pain.


This document (last modified July 18, 1995) from the Christian Classics Ethereal Library server, at @Wheaton College