By A Collection of Hymns

      L.M.
      1 JESU, whose glory's streaming rays,
      Though duteous to thy high command,
      Not seraphs view with open face,
      But veiled before thy presence stand;

      2 How shall weak eyes of flesh, weighed down
      With sin, and dim with error's night,
      Dare to behold thy awful throne,
      Or view thy unapproached light?

      3 Restore my sight! let thy free grace
      An entrance to the holiest give;
      Open mine eyes of faith! thy face
      So shall I see; yet seeing live.

      4 Thy golden sceptre from above
      Reach forth: see, my whole heart I bow:
      Say to my soul, "Thou art my love,
      My chosen 'midst ten thousand, thou!"

      5 O Jesus, full of grace! the sighs
      Of a sick heart with pity view;
      Hark, how my silence speaks, and cries
      "Mercy, thou God of mercy, show!"

      6 I know thou canst not but be good;
      How shouldst thou, Lord, thy grace restrain?
      Thou, Lord, whose blood so freely flowed
      To save me from all guilt and pain.