My Savior, can I e'er have known
The sweetness of Thy love?
So cold my wayward heart has grown,
And dead to things above.
Thou know'st the weakness of my faith,
The strength of inbred sin:
I mourn, and pray; I weep, and strive;
But darkness reigns within.
I come in all my helplessness,
To Thy dear feet I flee;
I cast myself upon Thy grace,
My only hope’s in Thee.
Thy blood, O Lord, has cleansed my guilt
Of more than crimson dye;
Now from my soul its darkness chase,
And light of life supply.
O Lord, Thou stretchest out Thine arms,
Once stretched upon the tree,
And bid'st my weary, troubled heart
Roll all its cares on Thee.
I come, my Lord; myself, in faith,
I to Thy love resign:
Oh, take my poor and worthless heart,
And make, and keep it Thine.