O that I knew where I might find
My righteous Judge's seat,
To pour out all my troubled mind
In prayer before His feet!

Not with the thunder of Thy power
Wouldst Thou against me plead;
No, Thy good Spirit, in that hour,
For me would intercede.

For me, Thy Son Himself would pray,
Thy well-beloved Son;
Father! Thou couldst not turn away
From Thine anointed One.

Thine own unutterable grace,
Thy love,--Thy love to me,
Constrain me thus to seek Thy face,
And cast my cares on Thee.

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Hear, then the voice of my desire,
My griefs, my fears behold;
Search me and try me, as with fire,
And bring me forth like gold.

Lord! thou hast troubled my repose,
Thy chastisements I feel;
Thine hand hath touch'd my heart--it glows,
It melts,--impress Thy seal.

Stamp Thine own Image on my soul,
Lift from the dust mine head;
Lord! Thou hast wounded,--make me whole;
Hast slain,--now raise the dead.