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1WHEN, gracious Lord, when shall it be, That I shall find my all in thee, The fulness of thy promise prove, The seal of thine eternal love 2A poor blind child I wander here, If haply I may feel thee near: O dark! dark! dark! I still must say, Amid the blaze of gospel day. 3Thee, only thee, I fain would find, And cast the world and flesh behind; Thou, only thou, to me be given, Of all thou hast in earth or heaven. 4Whom man forsakes thou wilt not leave, Ready the outcasts to receive, Though all my simpleness I own, And all my faults to thee are known. 5Ah, wherefore did I ever doubt! Thou wilt in no wise cast me out, A helpless soul that comes to thee, With only sin and misery. 6Lord, I am sick, my sickness cure; I want, do thou enrich the poor; Under thy mighty hand I stoop, O lift the abject sinner up! 7Lord, I am blind, be thou my sight; Lord, I am weak be thou my might; A helper of the helpless be, And let me find my all in thee!

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