Approach, my soul, the mercy-seat
Where Jesus answers prayer;
There humbly fall before His feet,
For none can perish there.

Thy promise is my only plea,
With this I venture nigh;
Thou callest burdened souls to Thee,
And such, O Lord, am I.

Bowed down beneath a load of sin,
By Satan sorely pressed,
By wars without, and fears within,
I come to Thee for rest.

Be Thou my shield and hiding-place,
That, sheltered near Thy side,
I may my fierce Accuser face
And tell him Thou hast died.

O wondrous Love! to bleed and die,
To bear the cross and shame,
That guilty sinners such as I
Might plead Thy gracious name!

Poor tempest-tossed soul, be still,
My promised grace receive;
'Tis Jesus speaks--I must, I will,
I can, I do, believe.