Truly that poor soul is just,

Truly that poor soul is just,
Who, by faith, in Christ can trust;
In him live, upon him rest,
As the Lord his Righteousness.

Sins as foul as hell he'll find
Rising up against his mind;
Nor will Satan spare to say,
He has quite mistook the way.

Yet, through all the scenes of time,
Jesus as his Way shall shine,
Brighter than the blaze of day,
Suited to him as his Way.

When he feels his dreadful woes,
And the craft of Satan knows,
Faith shall trace in Christ, his Head,
All his helpless soul can need.

So his path shall brighter shine,
Faith increase, and fears decline;
He from faith to faith shall go,
Till he nought but Christ shall know.

And when he resigns his breath,
To the icy hand of death,
In the Lord, his Living Way,
He shall fly to endless day.