O Lord, from Whom There’s Nought Concealed

Congregational singing
Metropolitan Tabernacle, London
O Lord, from Whom there’s nought concealed,
Who sees my inward frame;
To Thee I always stand revealed
Exactly as I am!
Since I, at times, can hardly bear
What in myself I see;
How vile and foul must I appear,
Most holy God, to Thee!
But since my Saviour stands between,
Who shed His precious blood,
’Tis He, instead of me is seen,
When I approach to God.
Thus, though a sinner, I am safe:
He pleads before the throne
His life and death on my behalf,
And calls my sins His own.
What wondrous love, what mysteries,
In this appointment shine!
My breaches of the law are His,
And His obedience mine.