What Mean These Jealousies And Fears
What mean these jealousies and fears?
As if the Lord was loath to save,
Or lov’d to see us drench’d in tears,
Or sink with sorrow to the grave.
Does he want slaves to grace his throne?
Or rules he by an iron rod?
Loves he the deep despairing groan?
Is he a tyrant, or a God?
Not all the sins which we have wrought,
So much his tender bowels grieve,
As this unkind injurious thought,
That he’s unwilling to forgive.
What though our crimes are black as night,
Or glowing like the crimson morn,
Immanuel’s blood will make them white
As now through the pure ether borne.
Lord, ’tis amazing grace we own,
And well may rebel worms surprise;
But, was not thy incarnate Son
A most amazing sacrifice?
“I’ve found a ransom,” saith the Lord,
“No humble penitent shall die?”
Lord, we would now believe thy word,
And thy unbounded mercies try!