O Thou that hearest when sin-ners cry,
Though all my crimes be-fore me lie,
Be-hold them not with an-gry look,
But blot their mem-ory from Thy book.
Cre-ate my na-ture pure with-in,
And form my soul a-verse to sin;
Let Thy good Spir-it ne'er de-part,
Nor hide Thy pres-ence from my heart.
I can-not live with-out Thy light,
Cast out and ban-ished from Thy sight;
Thy ho-ly joys, my God, re-store,
And guard me, that I fall no more.
A bro-ken heart, my God, my King,
Is all the sac-ri-fice I bring;
The God of grace will ne'er de-spise
A bro-ken heart for sac-ri-fice.
My soul lies hum-bled in the dust,
And owns Thy dread-ful sen-tence just:
Look down, O Lord, with pit-ying eye,
And save the soul con-demned to die.
Then will I teach the world Thy ways;
Sin-ners shall learn Thy sov-ereign grace;
I'll lead them to my Sav-iour's blood,
And they shall praise a par-doning God.