Sunday Grace

Come, Thou Fount of every blessing

Tune my heart to sing Thy grace

Streams of mercy, never ceasing

Call for songs of loudest praise

Teach me some melodious sonnet

Sung by flaming tongues above

Praise the mount! I’m fixed upon it

Mount of Thy redeeming love.

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Jesus sought me when a stranger

Wandering from the fold of God

He, to rescue me from danger

Interposed His precious blood

How His kindness yet pursues me

Mortal tongue can never tell

Clothed in flesh, till death shall loose me

I cannot proclaim it well.

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O to grace how great a debtor

Daily I’m constrained to be!

Let Thy goodness, like a fetter

Bind my wandering heart to Thee

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it

Prone to leave the God I love

Here’s my heart, O take and seal it

Seal it for Thy courts above.

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Come Thou Found of Every Blessing

John Wyeth and Robert Robertonson

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