Holy Lord God! I Love Thy Truth

Holy Lord God! I love Thy truth

Nor dare Thy least com­mand­ment slight;

Yet pierced by sin

the ser­pent’s tooth

I mourn the ang­uish of the bite.

But though the poi­son lurks with­in

Hope bids me still with pa­tience wait;

Till death shall set me free from sin

Free from the on­ly thing I hate.

Had I a throne ab­ove the rest

Where an­gels and arch­an­gels dwell;

One sin

un­slain

with­in my breast

Would make that Heav’n as dark as hell.

The pri­son­er

sent to breathe fresh air

And blessed with li­ber­ty again

Would mourn

were he con­demned to wear

One link of all his for­mer chain.

But O! no foe in­vades the bliss

When glo­ry crowns the Christ­ian’s head;

One view of Je­sus as He is

Will strike all sin for­ev­er dead.