THE SINNER'S FRIEND.
O thou, the contrite sinner's Friend,
Who loving, lov'st them to the end,
On this alone my hopes depend,
That Thou wilt plead for me!
When, weary in the Christian race,
Far-off appears my resting-place,
And fainting, I mistrust Thy grace—
Then, Saviour, plead for me!
When I have err'd and gone astray
Afar from Thine own and Wisdom's way,
And see no glimmering guiding ray—
Still, Saviour, plead for me!
When Satan, by my sins made bold,
Strives from Thy cross to loose my hold,
Then with Thy pitying arms enfold,
And plead, oh, plead for me!
And when my dying hour draws near,
Darken'd with anguish, guilt, and fear,
Then to my fainting sight appear,
Pleading in Heaven for me!
When the full light of Heavenly day
Reveals my sins in dread array,
Say, Thou hast wash'd them all away;
Oh, say, Thou plead'st for me!
—Charlotte Elliott.