O LORD, how vile am I,

Unholy, and unclean!

How can I dare to venture nigh

With such a load of sin?

Is this polluted heart

A dwelling fit for thee?

Swarming, alas! I in every part,

What evils do I see!

If I attempt to pray,

And lisp thy holy name;

My thoughts are hurried soon away,

I know not where I am.

If in thy word I look,

Such darkness fills my mind,

I only read a sealed book,

But no relief can find.

Thy gospel oft I hear,

But hear it still in vain;

Without desire, or love, or fear,

I like a stone remain.

Myself can hardly bear

This wretched heart of mine;

How hateful then must it appear

To those pure eyes of thine?

And must I then indeed

Sink in despair and die?

Fain would I hope that thou didst bleed

For such a wretch as I.

That blood which thou hast spilt;

That grace which is thine own;

Can cleanse the vilest sinner’s guilt,

And soften hearts of stone.

Low at thy feet I bow,

O pity and forgive;

Here will I lie and wait, till thou

Shalt bid me rise and live.