By A Collection of Hymns

      8s & 6s. Matthew xi. 28.
      1 STUPENDOUS love of God most high!
      He comes to meet us from the sky
      In mildest majesty;
      Full of unutterable grace,
      He calls the weary burdened race,
      "Come all for help to me."

      2 Tired with the greatness of my way,
      From him I would no longer stray,
      But rest in Jesus have;
      Weary of sin, from sin would cease,
      Weary of mine own righteousness,
      And stoop, myself to save.

      3 Weary of passions unsubdued,
      Weary of vows in vain renewed,
      Of forms without the power,
      Of prayers, and hopes, complaints, and groans,
      My fainting soul in silence owns
      I can hold out no more.

      4 Beneath this mountain load of grief,
      Of guilt and desperate unbelief,
      Jesus, thy creature see;
      With all my nature's weight oppressed,
      I sink, I die for want of rest,
      Yet cannot come to thee.

      5 Mine utter helplessness I feel;
      But thou, who gav'st the feeble will,
      The effectual grace supply;
      Be thou my strength, my light, my way,
      And bid my soul the call obey,
      And to thy bosom fly.

      6 Fulfil thine own intense desire,
      And now into my heart inspire
      The power of faith and love;
      Then, Saviour, then to thee I come,
      And find on earth the life, the home,
      The rest of saints above.