1320.
[How often, Lord, have I believed]
The heart is deceitful above all things.
—xvii. 9.
How often, Lord, have I believed
Myself instead of Thee,
Ten thousand, thousand times deceived
By my credulity!
In every victory of grace
I thought the conflict o'er,
So strong my hill of holiness,
I can be moved no more.
But oh, how desperately proud
My wretched heart unknown,
Which told me “I am fill'd with God,
And all the work is done!”
It whisper'd, “I am saved from sin,
And need no farther care,
If now I feel it not within,
It is no longer there.”
Yet surely, Lord, I may expect
Thy promises fulfill'd,
Thine image stamp'd on Thine elect,
Thy truth and mercy seal'd:
Thou wilt in that appointed day
Thy Spirit's might employ,
Thrust out the foe, its relics slay,
And finally destroy.
Thy sanctifying word is sure;
Thy word concerning me
Shall make me free indeed, and pure
From all iniquity.
Then shall my heart no more deceive,
While by my Saviour known,
Whate'er I am to Thee I leave,
And trust to Thee alone.
