O Lord, How Vile Am I

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! 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 seal­èd 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

Oh pity and for­give;

Here will I lie and wait

till Thou

Shalt bid me rise and live.