With joy I think upon the grace

Author: Isaac Watts. (Mod. R.Mc.)
Tune: Jackson



With joy I think upon the grace
Of my High Priest above;
His heart is made of tenderness,
compassion and of love.

Touched with a sympathy within,
He knows my feeble frame;
He knows what sore temptations mean,
For He has felt the same.

But spotless, innocent, and pure,
The great Redeemer stood,
While Satan’s fiery darts He bore,
And did resist to blood.

He in His days of feeble flesh
Poured out His cries and tears,
And in His goodness feels afresh
What every member bears.

He’ll never quench the smoking flax,
But raise it to a flame;
The bruis’d reed He never breaks,
Nor scorns the lowest name.

So let my humble faith now trace
His mercy and His power;
I shall obtain delivering grace
In the distressing hour.


Sheet music can be downloaded here.