Lord, I be­lieve Thy work of grace
Is per­fect in the soul;
His heart is pure, who sees Thy face,
His spir­it is made whole.

From ev­ery sick­ness by Thy Word,
From ev­ery sore dis­ease
Saved, and to per­fect health re­stored,
To per­fect ho­li­ness.

He walks in glo­ri­ous li­ber­ty,
To sin en­tire­ly dead,
The Truth, the Son hath made him free,
And he is free in­deed.

He lives, when Thou hast ful­ly wrought
The work of faith with pow­er,
Upright in deed, and word, and thought
He lives, and sins no more.

Throughout his soul Thy glo­ries shine,
His soul is all re­newed,
And decked in right­eous­ness di­vine,
And clothed, and filled with God.

In spir­it joined, and one with Thee,
And purged from all his stains,
No wrinkle of in­fir­mi­ty,
No spot of sin re­mains.

He knows Thee now, as he is known,
Thy full­ness he re­ceives,
Flesh of Thy flesh, bone of Thy bone,
In Thee he ev­er lives.

This is the rest, the life, the peace,
Which all Thy peo­ple prove,
Love is the bond of per­fect­ness,
And all their soul is love.

Thy peo­ple are all sanc­ti­fied,
And Thou shalt say to me,
Thou art all fair, My love, My bride,
There is no spot in thee.

O joy­ful sound of Gos­pel grace!
Christ in me shall ap­pear,
I, ev­en I shall see His face,
I shall be ho­ly here.

I shall from ev­ery sin be free;
(The Word of God is true)
Walk before Him, and per­fect be,
And pure as God is pure.

This heart shall be His con­stant home;
I hear His Spir­it’s cry,
Surely, He sa­ith, I quick­ly come,
He saith, and can­not lie.

The God of truth Him­self hath sworn:
On Him my soul re­lies,
My soul on wings of ea­gles borne,
Shall fly, and take the prize.

The glo­ri­ous crown of right­eous­ness
To me reached out I view,
Conqueror thro’ Him I soon shall seize,
And wear it as my due.

The pro­mised land from Pis­gah’s top,
I now ex­ult to see,
My hope is full (O bless­èd hope!)
Of im­mor­ta­li­ty.

My flut­ter­ing spir­it fa­tigues my breast,
And swells, and spreads abroad,
And pants for ev­er­last­ing rest,
And strug­gles in­to God.

I feel, and know Him now in part,
His love my heart con­strains,
Its near ap­proach ex­pands my heart,
And fills with pleas­ing pains.

He vi­sits now the house of clay,
He shakes His fu­ture home,
O wouldst Thou, Lord, on this glad day
Into Thy tem­ple come!

With me I know, I feel, Thou art,
But this can­not suf­fice,
Unless Thou plant­est in my heart
A con­stant pa­ra­dise.

My earth Thou wa­ter’st from on high.
But make it all a pool;
Spring up, O well, I ev­er cry,
Spring up with­in my soul.

Come, O my God, Thy­self re­veal,
Fill all this migh­ty void,
Thou on­ly canst my spir­it fill:
Come, O my God, my God!

Fulfill, ful­fill my large de­sires,
Large as in­fi­ni­ty,
Give, give me all my soul re­quires,
All, all that is in Thee!