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VI

8,8,8,8

O Jesus, Lord of mercy great,

Look down upon my woeful state

And, as my soul repentance brings,

Forgive my sinful wanderings.

O Jesus, Lord, surpassing kind,

For this Thou cam'st, the lost to find;

To Thee I cry, O Lord attend,

I claim Thy help,--Thou art my Friend.

68

Didst Thou not leave Thy home above?

Didst Thou not die to tell Thy love?

Yea, Lord, and love so great shall bless

The sinner in his helplessness.

I lift mine eyes--O Lord of grace,

I hear Thy voice, I see Thy face;

I clasp Thy wounded hand in mine,

And trust my soul to Love divine.

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