Behold the Throne of Grace
John Newton, 1725-1807
Behold the throne of grace!
The promise calls me near;
There Jesus shows his smiling face;
And waits to answer prayer.
That rich atoning blood
Which, sprinkled round, I see,
Provides for those who come to God
An all-prevailing plea.
My soul, ask what thou wilt,
Thou canst not be too bold;
Since his own blood for thee he spilt,
What else can he withhold?
Beyond thy utmost wants
His love and pow'r can bless.
To praying souls he always grants
More than they can express.
