Page:Olney Hymns - 1840.djvu/108

104 3 Yet this acknowledgment I ll make For all he has bestow d Salvation s sacred cup I ll take, And call upon my God.

4 The best returns for one like me, So wretched and so poor, Is from his gifts to draw a plea, And ask him still for more.

5 I cannot serve him as I ought, No works have I to boast ; Yet would I glory in the thought That I should owe him most.

1 WHAT a mournful life is mine, Fill d with crosses, pains, and cares ! Every work denied with sin, Every step beset with snares.

2 If alone I pensive sit, I myself can hardly bear ; If I pass along the street, Sin and riot triumph there.

3 Jesus ! how my heart is pain d, How it mourns for souls deceived, When I hear thy name profaned, When I see thy Spirit grieved !

4 When thy children s griefs I view, Their distress becomes my own ; All I hear or see or do Makes me tremble, weep, and groan.

5 Mourning thus I long had been When I heard my Saviour s voice : &quot; Thou hast cause to mourn for sin, But in me thou may st rejoice.&quot;

6 This kind word dispell d my grief, Put to silence my complaints ;