Approach, my soul, the mercy seat,
Where Jesus answers prayer;
There humbly fall before his feet,
For none can perish there.
Thy promise is my only plea,
With this I venture nigh;
Thou callest burdened souls to thee,
And such, O Lord, am I.
Bowed down beneath a load of sin,
By Satan sorely pressed,
By wars without, and fears within,
I come to thee for rest.
Be thou my shield and hiding place,
That, sheltered near thy side,
I may my fierce accuser face,
And tell him, Thou hast died.
O wondrous love! to bleed and die,
To bear the cross and shame,
That guilty sinners, such as I,
Might plead thy gracious name!
"Poor tempest tossed soul, be still;
My promised grace receive;"
'Tis Jesus speaks—I must, I will,
I can, I do believe.