And Wilt Thou Yet Be Found

And wilt Thou yet be found, And may I still draw near? Then listen to the plaintive sound Of a poor sinner's prayer. Jesus, thine aid afford, If still the same thou art: to thee I look, to thee, my Lord, I lift my helpless heart. Thou seest my troubled breast, The strugglings of my will, The foes that interrupt my rest, The agonies I feel. O my offended Lord, Restore my inward peace; I know thou canst; pronounce the word, And bid the tempest cease. I long to see thy face; Thy Spirit I implore-- The living water of thy grace That I may thirst no more.