942    L.M.     Gospel Mag., 1777
“I will not leave you comfortless.” John 14. 18

1 O God of grace, of love immense,
  How free thy favours to dispense!
  I to thy mercy-seat repair,
  Since thou hast said, “I’ll meet thee there.”

2 Thou seest my soul by sin oppressed;
  O come, and give the weary rest;
  My base backslidings kindly heal,
  Apply the balm, thy love reveal.

3 Should I go mourning to the grave,
  ’Twere just; yet, Lord, from darkness save.
  Does not thy tender word express,
  “I will not leave you comfortless”?

4 Burst through the clouds, O Source of Light!
  Let joy succeed the weeping night;
  Thy beams shall make my desert blow,
  The fruit appear, the spices flow.

5 What thou hast promised I implore,
  Supplies from thy exhaustless store.
  O righteous Father, just and true,
  Give me both grace and glory too.