How Sad Our State by Nature Is!

How sad our state by na­ture is!

Our sin

how deep it stains!

And Sa­tan binds our cap­tive souls

Fast in his slav­ish chains.

But hark! a voice of sov­er­eign grace

Sounds from the sacr­ed Word;

Ho

ye des­pair­ing sin­ners

come

And trust up­on the Lord!

My soul ob­eys the Al­migh­ty’s call

And runs to this re­lief;

I would be­lieve Thy pro­mise

Lord;

O help my un­be­lief!

To the blest fount­ain of Thy blood

Incarnate God

I fly;

Here let me wash my spot­ted soul

From sins of deep­est dye.

Stretch out Thine arm

vic­tor­ious King

My reign­ing sins sub­due

Drive the old dra­gon from his seat

With all his hell­ish crew.

A guil­ty

weak

and help­less worm

Into Thy hands I fall;

Be Thou my strength and right­eous­ness

My Sav­ior

and my all.