Alas, my ach­ing heart!
Here the keen tor­ment lies;
It racks my wak­ing hours with smart,
And frights my slum­ber­ing eyes.

Guilt will be hid no more,
My griefs take vent apace,
The crimes that blot my con­science o’er
Flush crim­son in my face.

My sor­rows like a flood
Impatient of re­straint
Into Thy bo­som, O my God,
Pour out a long com­plaint.

This im­pi­ous heart of mine
Could oncede­fy the Lord,
Could rush with vio­lence on to sin
In pre­sence of Thy sword.

As oft­en have I stood
A re­bel to the skies,
The calls, the ten­ders of a God,
And mer­cy’s loud­est cries.

He of­fers all His grace,
And all His hea­ven to me;
Offers! But ’tis to sense­less brass
That can nor feel nor see.

Jesus the Sav­ior stands
To court me from above,
And looks and spreads His wound­ed hands,
And shows the prints of love.

But I, a stu­pid fool,
How long have I with­stood
The bless­ings pur­chased with His soul,
And paid for all in blood?

The heav’n­ly Dove came down
And ten­der­ed me His wings,
To mount me up­ward to a crown
And bright im­mor­tal things.

Lord, I’m ashamed to say
That I re­fused Thy Dove,
And sent Thy Spi­rit grieved away
To His own realms of love.

Nor all Thine heav’n­ly charms,
Nor Thy re­veng­ing hand
Could force me to lay down my arms,
And bow to Thy com­mand.

Lord, ’tis against Thy face
My sins like ar­rows rise,
And yet, and yet, O match­less grace
Thy thun­der si­lent lies.

O shall I ne­ver feel
The melt­ings of Thy love?
Am I of such hell-hard­ened steel
That mer­cy can­not move?

Now for one pow­er­ful glance
Dear Sav­ior, from Thy face!
This re­bel heart no more with­stands,
But sinks be­neath Thy grace.

O’ercome by dy­ing love I fall,
And at Thy cross I lie;
I throw my flesh, my soul, my all,
And weep, and love, and die.

Rise, says the Prince of mer­cy, rise;
With joy and pi­ty in His eyes:
“Rise and be­hold My wound­ed veins;
Here flows the blood to wash thy stains.

See, My great Fa­ther’s re­con­ciled,
He said, and lo, the Fa­ther smiled;
The joy­ful che­rubs clapped their wings,
And sound­ed grace on all their strings.