I could not wrap my guilty soul
In any robe of mine;
Since naught can make me fit for God
But righteousness divine.
No other covering would do
For that most fearful day,
Which all our wretched, filthy rags,
Will sweep like chaff away.
But if I learn, by precious faith,
What Christ to me is made,
To stand before the throne of God
I shall not be afraid.
For pure and white, without a spot,
The washed one there is seen,
As much as if he never had
In filthy garments been.