Michael Lauer’s Website

My Redeemer, let me be
 Quite happy at thy feet ;
Still to know myself and thee,
 Be this my bitter sweet :
Look upon my infant state,
 And with a father’s yearning bless :
Don’t thy ransom’d child forget,
 Nor leave me in distress.

I have foolishly abus’d
 My Saviour’s bleeding love ;
All thy gifts, my God, misus’d,
 When by temptation drove :
Justly I deserve to be
 Forsaken by my Lord and God ;
Yet shall justice plead for me,
 For whom thou shedd’st thy blood.

Thy bless’d smiles, my gracious Lord,
 Shall cheer my drooping heart ;
I’m instructed In thy word
 That thou unchanging art :
Draw me to the depth profound
 Of all thy sorrows, blood and sweat,
Passing on, through ev’ry wound,
 Unto thy mercy seat :

There, reclining on thy breast,
 Th’ eternal Sabbath find ;
Proving in thee perfect rest
 To my poor lab’ring mind !
Waiting till the Lord I see,
 And be like him for ever pure ;
At the heav’nly jubilee
 This bliss to me is sure.