Isaac Watts

Hymn 98

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Hardness of heart complained of.

My heart, how dreadful hard it is!
How heavy here it lies!
Heavy and cold within my breast,
Just like a rock of ice!

Sin, like a raging tyrant, sits
Upon this flinty throne,
And every grace lies buried deep
Beneath this heart of stone.

How seldom do I rise to God,
Or taste the joys above!
This mountain presses down my faith,
And chills my flaming love.

When smiling mercy courts my Soul
With all its heav'nly charms,
This stubborn, this relentless thing
Would thrust it from my arms.

Against the thunders of thy word
Rebellious I have stood;
My heart, it shakes not at the wrath
And terrors of a God.

Dear Savior, steep this rock of mine
In thine own crimson sea!
None but a bath of blood divine
Can melt the flint away.

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Isaac Watts