1 O God, whose favorable eye
The sin-sick soul revives;
Holy and heavenly is the joy
Thy shining presence gives.

2 Be mine the comforts that reclaim
The soul from Satan's power,
That makes me blush for what I am,
And hate my sin the more.

3 'Tis joy enough, my all in all,
At thy dear feet to lie;
Thou wilt not let me lower fall,
And none can higher fly.