C. M. The promises of the covenant of grace. In vain we lavish out our lives To gather empty wind; The choicest blessings earth can yield Will starve a hungry mind. Come, and the Lord shall feed our souls With more substantial meat, With such as saints in glory love, With such as angels eat. Our God will every want supply, And fill our hearts with peace; He gives by cov'nant and by oath The riches of his grace. Come, and he'll cleanse our spotted souls, And wash away our stains In the dear fountain that his Son Poured from his dying veins. [Our guilt shall vanish all away, Though black as hell before; Our sins shall sink beneath the sea, And shall be found no more. And, lest pollution should o'erspread Our inward powers again, His Spirit shall bedew our souls, Like purifying rain.] Our heart, that flinty, stubborn thing, That terrors cannot move, That fears no threat'nings of his wrath, Shall be dissolved by love. Or he can take the flint away That would not be refined; And from the treasures of his grace Bestow a softer mind. There shall his sacred Spirit dwell, And deep engrave his law, And every motion of our souls To swift obedience draw. Thus will he pour salvation down, And we shall render praise; We the dear people of his love, And he our God of grace. |
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