Precious word of deepest meaning,
Softly falling on mine ear;
Fraught with joy, and comfort giving,
Banishing all dread and fear.
"Trust," yes, "trust," 'tis sweetly sounding,
Voice of Him who came to die,
"Trust in Me and rest, thus finding
Cloudless joy with Me on high,
Cloudless joy with Me on high."
Lost and ruined, vile and wayward,
Deepening gloom o'erhung my path;
Sins recounting, death I fearèd,
Loomed before me endless wrath.
Now His voice, so sweet and tender,
Gently whispers to my soul,
"Trust, oh, trust in Me, the Saviour,
I am He who makes thee whole,
I am He who makes thee whole."
Can I doubt, Lord, when I view Thee
In Thine hours of deepest woe;
Waves and billows rolling o'er Thee,
Sorrow Thine none else could know?
Doubt Thee, Jesus, willing victim
In my stead on Calvary's tree!
Oh, what love, Lord, all transcending,
Led Thee there to die for me,
Led Thee there to die for me.
"Trust," O Saviour, Lord, I trust Thee,
Is the answering word of faith
Of my soul—till now so weary—
To Thy matchless, perfect grace;
And thus trusting, simply trusting,
Joy and peace my heart possess;
Waiting now for Thine own coming,
Then to shine in endless bliss,
Then to shine in endless bliss.