1 Father, I stretch my Hands to thee,
No other Help I know;
If thou withdraw thyself from me,
Ah! whither shall I go?

2 What did thine only Son endure,
Before I drew my Breath?
What Pain, what Labour to secure
My Soul from endless Death!

3 O Jesu, could I this believe,
I now should feel thy Pow'r;
Now my poor Soul thou would'st retrieve
Nor let me wait one Hour.

4. Author of Faith, to thee I lift
My weary, longing Eyes:
O let me now receive that Gift!
My Soul without it dies!