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673.

[Thou know'st, I know not what to do]

Neither know we what to do: but our eyes are, &c. —xx. 12.

Thou know'st, I know not what to do,
But turn on Thee my wishful eye,
The help of man, the means, look through,
On Thee, on Thee alone rely:
Mine eye of faith, desire and prayer
For ever fix'd on heaven, attends,
Till saved I find a Spokesman there,
And God into my heart descends.
Caught in the toils of hell and sin,
One farther step I cannot go;
What shall I do my God to win?
My God, and none beside can show:

215

Saviour, my helpless desperate state
Thou dost, Thou dost this moment see:
And lo, I every moment wait
To know what Love designs for me.