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WEARY of earth, and laden with my sin, I look at Heaven and long to enter in; But there no evil thing may find a home, And yet I hear a voice that bids me come. |
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2 | So vile I am, how dare I hope to stand In the pure glory of that holy land? Before the whiteness of that throne appear? Yet there are hands stretched out to draw me near. |
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3 | How can a sinner tread the heavenly way? Evil is ever with me day by day; Yet, from the Lord, I hear a gracious call: ‘Repent, believe, and be released from all.’ |
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4 | It is the voice of Jesus that I hear; His are the hands stretched out to draw me near, And His the blood that can for me atone, And set me faultless there before the throne. |
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5 | There, Thou wilt answer for me, righteous Lord; Thine all the merit, mine the great reward; Thine the sharp thorns, and mine the golden crown; Mine the life won, and Thine the life laid down. |
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Samuel John Stone, 1839-1900 |