Hap-py the man to whom his God
No more im-putes his sin,
But, washed in the Re-deem-er's blood,
Hath made his gar-ments clean!
Hap-py, be-yond ex-pres-sion, he
Whose debts are thus dis-charged;
And, from the guil-ty bond-age free,
He feels his soul en-larged.
His spi-rit hates de-ceit and lies,
His words are all sin-cere;
He guards his heart, he guards his eyes,
To keep his con-science clear.
While I my in-ward guilt sup-pressed,
No qui-et could I find;
Thy wrath lay burn-ing in my breast,
And wracked my tor-tured mind.
Then I con-fessed my troub-led thoughts,
My se-cret sins re-vealed;
Thy pard-'ning grace for-gave my faults,
Thy grace my par-don sealed.
This shall in-vite Thy saints to pray;
When, like a rag-ing flood,
Temp-ta-tions rise, our strength and stay
Is a for-giv-ing God.
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