Behold the throne of grace!
The promise calls me near;
There Jesus shows a smiling face,
And waits to answer prayer.
 

That rich atoning blood,
Which sprinkled round I see;
Provides for those who come to God,
An all–prevailing plea.
 

My soul ask what thou wilt,
Thou canst not be too bold;
Since his own blood for thee he spilt,
What else can he withhold.
 

Beyond thy utmost wants
His love and pow’r can bless;
To praying souls he always grants,
More than they can express.
 

Since ’tis the Lord’s command,
My mouth I open wide;
Lord open thou thy bounteous hand,
That I may be supplied.
 

Thine image, LORD, bestow,
Thy presence and thy love;
I ask to serve thee here below,
And reign with thee above.
 

Teach me to live by faith,
Conform my will to thine;
Let me victorious be in death,
And then in glory shine.
 

If Thou these blessings give,
And wilt my portion be;
Cheerful the world’s poor toys I leave,
To them who know not thee.