This load of guilt that weighs upon my mind
and chills the natural movements of the heart,
these cares that burn, and memories that bind,
that grip my soul and make me stand apart:
let them be occasions of God’s grace,
and by their ministrations let me see
my inmost nature and its hidden face,
the common lot of all mortality.
My mind is dark, my self is full of sin,
and wrath is all my foolishness deserves.
I see the evil hidden deep within,
behind my thoughts, where no one else observes—
and yet the blood of Christ is cleansing me,
in preparation for eternity.
