1 No awful sense we find of sin,
The sinful life and sinful heart;
No loathing of the plague within,
Until the Lord that feel impart;
But when the Spirit of truth is come,
A sinner trembles at his doom.
2 Convinced and piercèd through and through,
He thinks himself the sinner chief;
And, conscious of his mighty woe,
Perceives at length his unbelief;
Good creeds may stock his head around,
But in his heart no faith is found.
3 No power his nature can afford
To change his heart, or purge his guilt;
No help is found but in the Lord,
No balm but in the blood he spilt;
A ruined soul, condemned he stands,
And unto Jesus lifts his hands.
4 So lift I up my hands and eyes,
And all my help in Jesus seek.
Lord, bring thy purging sacrifice
To wash me white, and make me meek;
And give me more enlargèd faith,
To view the wonders of thy death.
Source: A Selection of Hymns for Public Worship. In four parts (10th ed.) (Gadsby's Hymns) #744
Berridge, John, born at Kingston, Notis, March 1, 1716, and educated at Clare Hall, Cambridge. In 1749 he was ordained as curate to the parish of Stapleford, near Cambridge, and in 1755 he was preferred to the Vicarage of Everton, where he died Jan. 22, 1793. His epitaph, written by himself for his own tombstone (with date of death filled in), is an epitome of his life. It reads:—
" Here lies the remains of John Berridge, late Vicar of Everton, and an itinerate servant of Jesus Christ, who loved his Master and His work; and after running on His errands for many years, was caught up to wait on Him above. Reader! art thou born again? (No salvation without a new birth.) I was born in sin, February, 1716; remained ignorant of my fallen sta… Go to person page >
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