Come, let us lift our joyful eyes
Up to the courts above,
And smile to see our Father there
Upon a throne of love.

Once ’twas a seat of dreadful wrath,
And shot devouring flame;
Our God appeared “consuming fire,”
And Vengeance was His Name.

Rich were the drops of Jesus’ blood
That calmed His frowning face,
That sprinkled o’er the burning throne,
And turned the wrath to grace.

Now we may bow before His feet,
And venture near the Lord;
No fiery cherub guards His seat,
Nor double-flaming sword.

The peaceful gates of heav’nly bliss
Are opened by the Son;
High let us raise our notes of praise,
And reach th’almighty throne.

To Thee ten thousand thanks we bring,
Great Advocate on high;
And glory to th’eternal King,
That lays His fury by.

A dread hath come on me,
I know not where to flee,
My pow’rs can naught avail me;
My trembling limbs grow weak,
My lips refuse to speak,
My heart and senses fail me.

For thinking on that sound
That once shall pierce the ground
And make its slumb’rers tremble,
“Arise! the Day of Doom
Is come at last—is come!
Before the Judge assemble!”

Ah God! no tempest’s shock
That cleaves the solid rock
Could make my spirit shiver
As doth that awful tone;
Were my heart steel or stone
’Twould hear that voice and quiver.

I eat, or wake, or sleep,
I talk, or smile, or weep,
Yet still that voice of thunder
Is sounding through my heart—
“Forget not what thou art,
The doom thou liest under!”

For daily do I see
How many deaths there be,
How swiftly all things wither;
How sickness fills the grave,
Or fire, or sword, or wave
Is sweeping thousands thither.

My turn will soon be here,
The end is drawing near,
I hear its warning plainly;
Death knocketh at my door
And tells me all is o’er,
And I would fly him vainly.

Ah! who in this my strait
Will be mine Advocate?
Will all things leave me friendless?
My wealth and power are dust,
This Judge is ever just,
His righteous doom is endless.

Lord Jesus Christ! ’tis Thou
Alone canst help me now,
But ’twas for this Thou camest,
To save us in this hour—
Then show Thy mercy’s power,
For they are safe Thou claimest.

Speak Thou for me! Thou art
The refuge of my heart;
With gladness let me hear Thee;
Bid me to Thee ascend,
Where praise shall never end,
And love shall aye be near Thee.

Come, O my soul, my ev’ry pow’r awaking,
Look unto Him Whose goodness crowns thy days;
While into song angelic choirs are breaking,
O let thy voice its thankful tribute bring.

Refrain

Tell how alone the path of death He trod;
Tell how He lives, thine Advocate with God;
Lift up thy voice, while Heav’n’s triumphant throng,
Swell at His feet the everlasting song.

Think, O my soul, now patiently He sought thee,
Far, far away upon the mountain steep;
Then in His arms how tenderly He brought thee,
Home to His fold, a weary, wand’ring sheep.

Refrain

Sing, O my soul, and let thy pure devotion
Rise to His throne, thy Savior, Friend, and Guide;
Sing of His love that, like a mighty ocean,
Flows unto thee, and all the world beside.

Refrain

Soon, O my soul, thine earthly house forsaking,
Soon shalt thou rise the better world to see;
Then will thy harp, a nobler strain awaking,
Praise Him Who died to purchase life for thee.

Refrain

Jesus, my Advocate above,
My Friend before the throne of love,
If now for me prevails Thy prayer,
If now I find Thee pleading there,
If Thou the secret wish convey,
And sweetly prompt my heart to pray;
Hear, and my weak petitions join,
Almighty Advocate, to Thine.

Fain would I know my utmost ill,
And groan my nature’s weight to feel,
To feel the clouds that round me roll,
The night that hangs upon my soul,
The darkness of my carnal mind,
My will perverse, my passions blind,
Scattered o’er all the earth abroad,
Immeasurably far from God.

Jesus, my heart’s desire obtain!
My earnest suit present, and gain;
My fulness of corruption show,
The knowledge of myself bestow;
A deeper displacence at sin,
A sharper sense of hell within,
A stronger struggling to get free,
A keener appetite for Thee.

O sovereign Love, to Thee I cry,
Give me Thyself, or else I die!
Save me from death, from hell set free,
Death, hell, are but the want of Thee.
Quickened by Thy imparted flame,
Saved, when possessed of Thee, I am;
My life, my only heaven Thou art,
O might I feel Thee in my heart!

O Thou, the contrite sinner’s Friend,
Who loving, lov’st them to the end,
On this alone my hopes depend,
That Thou wilt plead for me.

When weary in the Christian race,
Far off appears my resting place,
And, fainting, I mistrust Thy grace,
Then, Savior, plead for me.

When I have erred and gone astray,
Afar from Thine and wisdom’s way,
And see no glimmering, guiding ray,
Still, Savior, plead for me.

When Satan, by my sins made bold,
Strives from Thy cross to loose my hold,
Then with Thy pitying arms infold,
And plead, O plead for me.

And when my dying hour draws near,
Darkened with anguish, guilt, and fear,
Then to my fainting sight appear,
Pleading in Heav’n for me.

When the full light of heavenly day
Reveals my sins in dread array,
Say Thou hast washed them all away;
O say, Thou plead’st for me!

When at Thy footstool, Lord, I bend,
And plead with Thee for mercy there,
Think of the sinner’s dying Friend,
And for His sake receive my prayer.

O think not of my shame and guilt,
My thousand stains of deepest dye;
Think of the blood which Jesus spilt,
And let that blood my pardon buy.

Think, Lord, how I am still Thine own,
The trembling creature of Thy hand;
Think how my heart to sin is prone,
And what temptations round me stand.

O think upon Thy holy Word,
And every plighted promise there;
How prayer should evermore be heard,
And how Thy glory is to spare.

O think not of my doubts and fears,
My strivings with Thy grace divine;
Think upon Jesus’ woes and tears,
And let His merits stand for mine.

Thine eyes, Thine ear, they are not dull;
Thine arm can never shortened be;
Behold me here; my heart is full;
Behold, and spare, and succor me.