The God of Grace Delights to Hear
W.W. Horne
The God of grace delights to hear
The plaintive cry, the humble prayer;
Nor shall the weakest saint complain
That he has sought the Lord in vain.
With power to Jacob's seed He speaks;
His Word the heart asunder breaks;
While grace the rage of sin controls,
And deep repentance melts their souls.
"Seek ye my face," Jehovah cries;
With joy the contrite heart replies,
"Thy face I seek; with power descend,
From every foe my soul defend!"
A bleeding Christ is all they plead,
And all that guilty sinners need;
In whose dear name their fervent cries
Before the Lord like incense rise.
