When, gracious Lord, when shall it be

When, gracious Lord, when shall it be
That I shall find my all in thee?
The fulness of thy promise prove,
The seal of thy eternal love?

Thee, only thee, I fain would find,
And cast the world and sin behind;
A helpless soul, I come to thee,
With only sin and misery.

Lord, I am sick - my sickness cure;
I want - do thou enrich the poor;
Under thy mighty hand I stoop -
O lift the abject sinner up!

Lord, I am blind - be thou my sight;
Lord, I am weak - be thou my might;
A helper of the helpless be,
And let me find my all in thee.