1 Thou Fountain of bliss, thy smile I entreat;
O’erwhelmed with distress I mourn at thy feet;
The joy of salvation, when shall it be mine?
The high consolation of friendship divine!

2 Awakened to see the depth of my fall,
For mercy on thee I earnestly call;
’Tis thine the lost sinner to save and renew;
Faith’s mighty Beginner and Finisher too.

3 Thy Spirit alone repentance implants,
And gives me to groan at feeling my wants;
’Midst all my dejection, dear Lord, I can trace
Some marks of election, some tokens of grace.

4 Thou wilt not despise a sinner distressed;
All-kind and all-wise, thy season is best.
To thy sovereign pleasure resigned I would be,
And tarry at leisure, and hope still in thee.