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1 Smote by thy law, I'm justly slain;
Great God, behold my case;
Pity a sinner fill'd with pain,
Nor drive me from thy face.
2 Dread terrors fright my guilty soul--
Thy justice, all in flames,
Gives sentence on this heart so foul,
So hard, so full of crimes.
3 'Tis trembling hardness that I feel;
I fear, but don't relent,--
Perhaps of endless death the seal:
Oh, that I could repent!
4 My pray'rs, my tears, my vows are vile;
My duties black with guilt;
On such a wretch can mercy smile,
Tho' Jesus' blood was spilt?
5 Speechless I sink to endless night,
I see an opening hell:
But lo! what glory strikes my sight!
Such glory who can tell!
6 Enwrapt in these bright beams of peace,
I feel a gracious God:
Swell, swell the note: Oh, tell his grace;
Sound his high praise abroad!
| Text Information | |
|---|---|
| First Line: | Smote by the law, I'm justly slain |
| Meter: | C. M. |
| Publication Date: | 1828 |
| Scripture: | |
| Topic: | Penitence of the awakened sinner: Penitence; Slain and reviving |
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