0 THAT I KNEW WHERE I MIGHT FIND HIM!"

WHEN Jesus tells me he is mine,
And whispers I am his,
My head shall on his breast recline,
And drink in draughts of bliss.

0 that he would his grace reveal,
And make my heart his home,
Upon my forehead set his seal
And never let me roam.

I long to know he died for me;
And long to shout his praise;
I long his blessed face to see
And trace his wondrous ways.

Experience of his love I want,
Experience of his grace;
For more experience, Lord, I pant,
To cheer me in the race.

But O my heart so backward is
To run the prize to win,
And what to me is worse than this,
I cannot cease from sin.

'Tis this that damps my soul's pursuit,
And makes me often sigh;
Still Jesus is the Friend to suit
Just such a wretch as I.

O! when will he his love reveal,
And show his blessed face?
When shall I make a heavenly meal
On Jesus' love and grace ?

0 ! Bless his name! 'Tis sweet to me,
I wish I knew him more,
For in his light I'm taught to see
What grace he has in store.

There's naught but grace can save a wretch
Deserving hell like me;
My soul is now upon the stretch,
And longs to be set free.
1844.                                                                A. H.
GS 1868