By A Collection of Hymns

      S.M.
      1 O THAT I could revere
      My much-offended God!
      O that I could but stand in fear
      Of thy afflicting rod!
      If mercy cannot draw,
      Thou by thy threatenings move,
      And keep an abject soul in awe,
      That will not yield to love.

      2 Show me the naked sword
      Impending o'er my head;
      O let me tremble at thy word,
      And to my ways take heed!
      With sacred horror fly
      From every sinful snare;
      Nor ever, in my Judge's eye,
      My Judge's anger dare.

      3 Thou great tremendous God;
      The conscious awe impart;
      The grace be now on me bestowed,
      The tender, fleshly heart:
      For Jesu's sake alone
      The stony heart remove,
      And melt at last, O melt me do -
      Into the mould of love!