God’s Presence makes Glad. Ps. 30. 5-12; Jer. 31. 4
J. Berridge C.M.
1
When I can sit at Jesus’ feet,
And he anoints my head,
Such peace ensues, so calm and sweet,
I think my foes all dead.
2
My simple heart then fondly dreams,
It will see war no more;
Too firm to shrink my mountain seems,
And every storm blows o’er.
3
[While thus a queen in state I sit,
Self hunts about for praise;
Talks much of frames and victories great,
That you may hear and gaze.]
4
Then Jesus sends a trying hour,
This lurking pride to quell;
My dead foes rise with dreadful power,
And drag me down to hell.
5
Now faints my heart within me quite,
My mountain disappears;
All grace is vanished from my sight,
And faith seems lost in fears.
6
At length my Lord, with sweet surprise,
Returns to loose my bands,
Brings kind compassion in his eyes,
And pardon in his hands.
7
I drop my vile head in the dust,
And at my Lord’s feet fall;
His grace is now my song and boast,
And Christ my All in All.
