DIALOGUE BETWEEN A BELIEVER AND HIS SOUL

 Words by Joseph Hart (Gadsby's Hymns, no. 780)
 Music by William Walker, Sacred Harp, p. 448, Christian Harmony, p. 233)

Believer
 Come, my soul, and let us try,
  For a little season,
 Every burden to lay by;
  Come, and let us reason. 
 What is this that casts you down?
  Who are those that grieve you?
 Speak, and let the worst be known;
  Speaking may relieve you.

Soul
 O, I sink beneath the load
  Of my natures evil!
 Full of enmity to God;
  Captived by the devil;
 Restless as the troubled seas;
  Feeble, faint, and fearful;
 Plagued with every sore disease;
  How can I be cheerful?

Believer
 Think on what your Savior bore
  In the gloomy garden.
 Sweating blood at every pore,
  To procure your pardon!
 See him stretched upon the wood,
  Bleeding, grieving, crying,
 Suffering all the wrath of God,
  Groaning, gasping, dying!

Soul
 This by faith I sometimes view,
  And those views relieve me;
 But my sins return anew;
  These are those who grieve me.
 O, Im leprous, stinking, foul,
  Quite throughout infected;
 Have not I, if any soul,
  Cause to be dejected?

Believer
 Think how loud your dying Lord
  Cried out, "It is finished!"
 Treasure up that sacred word,
  Whole and undiminished;
 Doubt not he will carry on,
  To its full perfection,
 That good work he has begun;
  Why, then, this dejection?

Soul
 Faith when void of works is dead;
  This the Scriptures witness;
 And what works have I to plead,
  Who am all unfitness?
 All my powers are depraved,
  Blind, perverse, and filthy;
 If from death Im fully saved,
  Why am I not healthy?

Believer
 Pore not on yourself too long,
  Lest it sink you lower;
 Look to Jesus, kind as strong
  Mercy joined with power;
 Every work that you must do,
  Will your gracious Savior
 For you work, and in you too,
  Of his special favor.

Soul
 Jesus' precious blood, once spilt,
  I depend on solely,
 To release and clear my guilt;
  But I would be holy.

Believer
 He that bought you on the cross
  Can control your nature;
 Fully purge away your dross;
  Make you a new creature.

Soul
 That he can I nothing doubt,
  Be it but his pleasure;

Believer
 Though it be not done throughout,
  May it not in measure?

Soul
 When that measure, far from great,
  Still shall seem decreasing?

Believer
 Faint not then, but pray and wait,
  Never, never ceasing.

Soul 
 What! when prayer meets no regard?
Believer 
  Still repeat it often.
Soul 
 But I feel myself so hard.
Believer 
  Jesus will you soften.

Soul 
 But my enemies make head.
Believer 
  Let them closer drive you.
Soul 
 But Im cold, Im dark, Im dead.
Believer 
  Jesus will revive you.