Praise for Faith
Of all the gifts Thine hand bestows,Thou Giver of all good!Not heaven itself a richer knowsThan my Redeemer's blood.
Faith too, the blood-receiving grace,From the same hand we gain;Else, sweetly as it suits our case,That gift had been in vain.
Till Thou Thy teaching power apply,Our hearts refuse to see,And weak, as a distemper'd eye,Shut out the view of Thee.
Blind to the merits of Thy Son,What misery we endure!Yet fly that Hand from which aloneWe could expect a cure.
We praise Thee, and would praise Thee more,To Thee our all we owe:The precious Saviour, and the powerThat makes Him precious too.
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