The Effort-in Another Measure

Approach, my soul, the mercy-seat Where Jesus answers pray’r; There humbly fall before his feet, For none can perish there.

Thy promise is my only plea, With this I venture nigh: Thou callest burden’d souls to thee, And such, O Lord, am I.

Bow’d down beneath a load of sin, By Satan sorely press’d; By war without and fears within, I come to thee for rest.

Be thou my shield and hiding-place! That, shelter’d near thy side, I may my fierce accuser face, And tell him, Thou hast died.

Oh wond’rous 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.