CCXXV Approach, my soul, the mercy-seat

There humbly fall before His feet,

For none can perish there.

Thy promise is my only plea,

With this I venture nigh;

Thou callest burden'd souls to Thee,

And such, O LORD, am I.

Bow'd down beneath a load of sin,

By Satan sorely prest,

By war without, and fears within,

I come to Thee for rest: --

Be Thou my shield and hiding-place,

That, shelter'd near Thy side,

I may my fierce accuser face,

And tell him, Thou hast died!