beautiful hymn

And does thy laboring bosom heave?
Thy heart for Jesus sigh?
Though guilt and doubtings make thee grieve
Still for His mercy cry.

If there's a space within the breast,
That none but Christ can fill;
He died, and therefore, can give rest;
He's true, and, therefore, will.

Did ever sinner think to woe,
Thirsting for pardoning grace?
Ten thousand voices answer, No!
None die that seek His face.

Go then, poor leper, cast thy soul
Down at His nail-pierced feet;
He'll raise thee up; He'll make thee whole,
And all thy foes defeat.

His word, His cross, His blood, His pain,
His rising from the grave,
Ring through the earth, again, again,
He's willing now to save.