1 When the wounded spirit hears
The voice of Jesu's blood;
How the message stops the tears
Which else in vain had flowed:
Pardon, grace, and peace proclaimed,
And the sinner called a child;
Then the stubborn heart is tamed;
Renewed and reconciled.
2 Oh! 'twas grace indeed, to spare
And save a wretch like me!
Men or angels could not bear
What I have offered thee:
Were thy bolts at their command,
Hell, ere now, had been my place;
Thou alone should silent stand,
And wait to show thy grace.
3 If in one created mind
The tenderness and love
Of thy saints on earth were joined,
With all the hosts above;
Still that love were weak and poor,
If compared, my Lord, with thine;
Far too scanty to endure
A heart so file as mine.
4 Wondrous mercy I have found,
But Ah! how faint my praise!
Must I be a cumber-ground,
Unfruitful all my days!
Do I in thy garden grow,
Yet produce thee only leaves?
Lord, forbid it should be so!
The thought my spirit grieves.
5 Heavy charges Satan brings,
To fill me with distress;
Let me hide beneath thy wings,
And plead thy righteousness:
Lord to thee for help I call,
'Tis thy promise bids me come;
Tell him thou hast paid for all,
And thou shalt strike him dumb.
Hymns and Spiritual Songs for the use of Christians, 1803