Isaac Watts · 456 of 724

Hymn 98

How heavy is the night That hangs upon our eyes, Till Christ with his reviving light Over our souls arise!

Our guilty spirits dread To meet the wrath of Heav'n; But, in his righteousness arrayed, We see our sins forgiv'n.

Unholy and impure Are all our thoughts and ways; His hands infected nature cure With sanctifying grace.

The powers of hell agree To hold our souls in vain; He sets the sons of bondage free, And breaks the cursed chain

Lord, we adore thy ways To bring us near to God; Thy sovereign power, thy healing grace, And thine atoning blood.