1. Lord, withglowing heart I’d praise thee
for the bliss thy love bestows,
for the pard’ning grace that saves me,
and the peace that from it flows.
Help, O God, my weak endeavor;
this dull soul to rapture raise:
thou must light the flame, or never
can my love be warmed to praise.

2. Praise, my soul, the God that sought thee,
wretched wand’rer far astray;
found thee lost, and kindly brought thee
from the paths of death away.
Praise, with love’s devoutest feeling,
him who saw thy guilt-born fear,
and, the light of hope revealing,
bade the bloodstained cross appear.

3. Praise thy Savior God that drew thee
to that cross, new life to give,
held a blood-sealed pardon to thee,
bade thee look to him and live.
Praise the grace whose threats alarmed thee,
roused thee from thy fatal ease;
praise the grace whose promise warmed thee,
praise the grace that whispered peace.

4. Lord, this bosom’s ardent feeling
vainly would my lips express:
low before thy footstool kneeling,
deign thy suppliant’s pray’r to bless.
Let thy love, my soul’s chief treasure,
love’s pure flame within me raise;
and, since words can never measure,
let my life show forth thy praise.