Jesu, ac­cept the grate­ful song,
My wis­dom, and my might,
’Tis Thou hast loosed the stam­mer­ing tongue,
And taught my hands to fight.

Thou, Je­sus, Thou my mouth hast been;
The wea­pons of Thy war,
Mighty thro’ Thee, I pull down sin,
And all Thy truth de­clare.

Not with­out Thee, my Lord, I am
Come up un­to this place,
Thy Spir­it bad me preach Thy name,
And trum­pet forth Thy praise.

Thy Spir­it gave me ut­ter­ance now,
My soul with strength en­dued,
Hardened to ada­mant my brow,
And armed my heart with God.

Thy pow­er­ful hand in all I see,
Thy wond­rous work­ings own,
Glory, and strength and praise to Thee
Ascribe, and Thee alone.

Gladly I own the pro­mise true
To all whom Thou dost send,
Behold, I al­ways am with you,
Your Sav­ior to the end!

Amen, amen, my God and Lord,
If Thou art with me still,
I still shall speak the Gos­pel word,
My min­is­try ful­fill.

Thee I shall con­stant­ly pro­claim,
Though earth and hell op­pose,
Bold to con­fess Thy glo­ri­ous name
Before a world of foes.

Jesus, the name high ov­er all,
In hell, or earth, or sky;
Angels and men before it fall,
And de­vils fear and fly.

Jesus! the name to sin­ners dear,
The name to sin­ners giv’n;
It scat­ters all their guil­ty fear,
It turns their hell to Heav’n.

Balm into wound­ed souls it pours,
And heals the sin sick mind;
It hear­ing to the deaf re­stores,
And eye­sight to the blind.

Jesus! the pri­son­er’s fet­ters breaks,
And bruis­es Sa­tan’s head;
Power into strength­less hands it speaks,
And life in­to the dead.

O that the world might taste, and see
The rich­es of His grace!
The arms of love that com­pass me
Would all man­kind em­brace.

O that my Je­su’s heav’n­ly charms
Might ev­ery bo­som move!
Fly, sin­ners, fly in­to those arms
Of ev­er­last­ing love.

The Lov­er of your souls is near,
Him I to you com­mend,
Joyful the Bride­groom’s voice to hear,
Who calls a worm His friend.

He hath the Bride, and He alone,
Almighty to re­deem,
I only make His mer­cies known,
I send you all to Him.

Sinners, be­hold the Lamb of God,
On Him your spir­its stay;
He bears the uni­ver­sal load,
He takes your sins away.

His only right­eous­ness I show,
His sav­ing grace pro­claim;
’Tis all my bu­si­ness here be­low
To cry Behold the Lamb!

For this a suf­fer­ing life I live,
And reck­on all things loss;
For Him my strength, my all I give,
And glo­ry in His cross.

I spend my­self, that you may know
The Lord, our right­eous­ness;
That Christ in you may live and grow,
I joy­ful­ly de­crease.

Glad I hast­en to de­cay,
My life I free­ly spend,
And lang­uish for the wel­come day,
When all my toil shall end.

Happy, if with my lat­est breath
I may but gasp His name,
Preach Him to all and cry in death,
Behold, be­hold the Lamb!