Laden with Guilt, and Full of Fears

Laden with guilt

and full of fears

I fly to Thee

my Lord

And not a glimpse of hope ap­pears

But in Thy writ­ten Word.

The vol­ume of my Fa­ther’s grace

Does all my griefs as­suage;

Here I be­hold my Sav­ior’s face

Almost in ev­ery page.

This is the field where hid­den lies

The pearl of price un­known;

That mer­chant is di­vine­ly wise

Who makes the pearl his own.

Here con­se­crat­ed wa­ter flows

To quench my thirst of sin;

Here the fair tree of know­ledge grows

Nor dan­ger dwells there­in.

This is the Judge that ends the strife

Where wit and rea­son fail

My guide to ev­er­last­ing life

Through all this gloomy vale.

O may Thy coun­sels

migh­ty God

My rov­ing feet com­mand;

Nor I for­sake the hap­py road

That leads to Thy right hand.