My Savior whose infinite grace

Most kindly encompasses me,

Whose goodness more brightly I trace,

The more of my life that I see. —

The sins that I mournfully own,

Thy meekness and mercy exalt, —

And sweet is the voice from Thy throne,

That tenderly shows me a fault.

Even now, while my praises arise,

A sorrowful spirit is mine;

A spirit Thou wilt not despise,

For O! it is mourning with Thine.

My joy is in light from above,

The light which Thy kindness displays;

My grief is for lack of the love

That would tune my whole life to Thy praise.

My faithful Redeemer, forgive

The sin it has grieved Thee to see,

And let me remember to live

In the Spirit that glorifies Thee.

Though much in Thy child Thou hast borne,

Thy counsels still gently repeat,

And give me, if still I must mourn,

To mourn as a child at thy feet.