S.M. 1 AH whither should I go, Burdened, and sick, and faint? To whom should I my troubles show, And pour out my complaint? My Saviour bids me come, Ah! why do I delay? He calls the weary sinner home, And yet from him I stay!
2 What is it keeps me back, From which I cannot part, Which will not let my Saviour take, Possession of my heart? Some cursed thing unknown Must surely lurk within, Some idol, which I will not own, Some secret bosom-sin.
3 Jesu, the hindrance show, Which I have feared to see: Yet let me now consent to know What keeps me out of thee: Searcher of hearts, in mine Thy trying power display; Into its darkest corners shine, And take the veil away.
4 I now believe in thee Compassion reigns alone; According to my faith to me O let it, Lord, be done! In me is all the bar, Which thou wouldst fain remove; Remove it, and I shall declare That God is only love.