My Lord How Great The Favor

My Lord, how great’s the Favour!
That I a Sinner Poor,
Can thro’ thy Blood’s sweet Savour
Approach thy Mercy’s door:
And find an open Passage
Unto the Throne of Grace;
There wait the welcome Message,
That bids me go in Peace.

Lord, I’m an helpless Creature,
Full of the deepest Need.
Throughout defil’d by Nature
Stupid, and inly dead:
My Strength is perfect Weakness,
And all I have is Sin;
My Heart is all Uncleanness,
A Den of Thieves within.

In this forlorn Condition,
Who shall afford me Aid?
Where shall I find Compassion
But in the Church’s Head?
Jesus thou art all Pity,
O take me to thine Arms,
And exercise thy Mercy,
To save me from all Harms.

I’ll never cease repeating
My numberless Complaints;
But ever be intreating
The glorious King of Saints
‘Til I attain the Image
Of him I inly Love;
And pay my greatful Homage
With all the Saints above.

Then I, with all in Glory,
Will thankfully relate
Th’ amazing, pleasing Story
Of Jesu’s Love so great;
In this blest Contemplation
I ever shall be well;
And prove such Consolation,
As none below can tell.