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The Book of Praise.
Why should I shrink from Thy command,
Whose love forbids my fears, Or tremble at the gracious hand
That wipes away my tears ?
No, rather let me freely yield
What most I prize to Thee, Who never hast a good withheld.
Or wilt withhold, from me.
Thy favour, all my journey through,
Thou art engaged to grant; What else I want, or think I do,
'Tis better still to want.
But ah ! my inward spirit cries,
Still bind me to Thy sway! Else the next cloud that veils the skies,
Drives all these thoughts away.
William Cowper. 1779
O for an heart to praise my God, An heart from sin set free!
An heart that always feels Thy Blood, So freely spilt for me !
An heart resign'd, submissive, meek, My dear Redeemer's throne ;
Where only Christ is heard to speak, Where Jesus reigns alone.
An humble, lowly, contrite heart, Believing, true, and clean :
Which neither life nor death can part From Him that dwells within: