1 Laden with guilt, and full of fears,
I fly to thee, my Lord,
And not a glimpse of hope appears,
But in thy written word.

2 The volume of my Father's grace
Does all my griefs assuage:
Here I behold my Saviour's face
Almost in every page.

3 [This is the field where hidden lies
The pearl of price unknown,
That merchant is divinely wise
Who makes the pearl his own.]

4 [Here consecrated water flows
To quench my thirst of sin;
Here the fair tree of knowledge grows,
Nor danger dwells therein.]

5 This is the Judge that ends the strife,
Where wit and reason fail;
My guide to everlasting life,
Thro' all this gloomy vale.

6 O may thy counsels, mighty God,
My roving feet command;
Nor I forsake the happy road
That leads to thy right-hand.