In a believer's ear! It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds, And drives away his fear! It makes the wounded spirit whole And calms the troubled breast; Tis manna to the hungry soul, And to the weary, rest. Dear Name! the rock on which I build, My shield and hiding-place, My never-failing treasury, fill'd With boundless stores of grace, -- By Thee my prayers acceptance gain, Although with sin defiled; Satan accuses me in vain, And I am own'd a Child. Weak is the effort of my heart, And cold my warmest thought; But, when I see Thee as Thou art, I'll praise Thee as I ought. Till then, I would Thy love proclaim With every fleeting breath; And may the music of Thy Name Refresh my soul in death! |