Praise for Faith

Of all the gifts Thine hand bestows,

Thou Giver of all good!

Not heaven itself a richer knows

Than my Redeemer's blood.

Faith too, the blood-receiving grace,

From the same hand we gain;

Else, sweetly as it suits our case,

That gift had been in vain.

Till Thou Thy teaching power apply,

Our hearts refuse to see,

And weak, as a distemper'd eye,

Shut out the view of Thee.

Blind to the merits of Thy Son,

What misery we endure!

Yet fly that Hand from which alone

We could expect a cure.

We praise Thee, and would praise Thee more,

To Thee our all we owe:

The precious Saviour, and the power

That makes Him precious too.