Praise for Faith

Of all the gifts Thine hand bestows, Thou Giver of all good!Not heaven itself a richer knowsThan 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 aloneWe could expect a cure.

We praise Thee, and would praise Thee more,To Thee our all we owe;The precious Saviour, and the powerThat makes Him precious too.