Words: Isaac Watts
Part 1. A penitent pleading for pardon. 1 Show pity, Lord, O Lord, forgive, Let a repenting rebel live: Are not thy mercies large and free? May not a sinner trust in thee? 2 My crimes are great, but not surpass The power and glory of thy grace: Great God, thy nature hath no bound, So let thy pard'ning love be found. 3 O wash my soul from ev'ry sin, And make my guilty conscience clean; Here on my heart the burden lies, And past offences pain my eyes. 4 My lips with shame my sins confess Against thy law, against thy grace: Lord, should thy judgment grow severe, I am condemned, but thou art clear. 5 Should sudden vengeance seize my breath, I must pronounce thee just in death; And if my soul were sent to hell, Thy righteous law approves it well. 6 Yet save a trembling sinner, Lord, Whose hope, still hov'ring round thy word, Would light on some sweet promise there, Some sure support against despair. PART 2. Original and actual sin confessed. 1 Lord, I am vile, conceived in sin; And born unholy and unclean; Sprung from the man whose guilty fall Corrupts the race, and taints us all. 2 Soon as we draw our infant breath, The seeds of sin grow up for death; Thy law demands a perfect heart, But we're defiled in ev'ry part. 3 Great God, create my heart anew, And form my spirit pure and true; O make me wise betimes to spy My danger and my remedy. 4 Behold, I fail before thy face; My only refuge is thy grace: No outward forms can make me clean; The leprosy lies deep within. 5 No bleeding bird, nor bleeding beast, Nor hyssop branch, nor sprinkling priest, Nor running brook, nor flood, nor sea, Can wash the dismal stain away. 6 Jesus, my God, thy blood alone Hath power sufficient to atone; Thy blood can make me white as snow; No Jewish types could cleanse me so. 7 While guilt disturbs and breaks my peace, Nor flesh nor soul hath rest or ease; Lord, let me hear thy pard'ning voice, And make my broken bones rejoice..