1 Truly that poor soul is just,
Who, by faith, in Christ can trust;
In him live, upon him rest,
As the Lord his Righteousness.

2 Sins as foul as hell he’ll find
Rising up against his mind;
Nor will Satan spare to say,
He has quite mistook the way.

3 Yet, through all the scenes of time,
Jesus as his Way shall shine,
Brighter than the blaze of day,
Suited to him as his Way.

4 When he feels his dreadful woes,
And the craft of Satan knows,
Faith shall trace in Christ, his Head,
All his helpless soul can need.

5 So his path shall brighter shine,
Faith increase, and fears decline;
He from faith to faith shall go,
Till he nought but Christ shall know.

6 And when he resigns his breath,
To the icy hand of death,
In the Lord, his Living Way,
He shall fly to endless day.