O THOU that hear'st when sinners cry,

O THOU that hear'st when sinners cry, Though all my crimes before Thee lie, Behold them not with angry look, But blot their memory from Thy book.

Create my nature pure within, And form my soul averse to sin; Let Thy good Spirit ne'er depart, Nor hide Thy presence from my heart.

Though I have grieved Thy Spirit, Lord, His help and comfort still afford; And let a wretch come near Thy throne, To plead the merits of Thy Son.

A broken heart, my God, my King, Is all the sacrifice I bring; The God of grace will ne'er despise A broken heart for sacrifice.

My soul lies humbled in the dust, And owns Thy dreadful sentence just; Look down, O Lord, with pitying eye, And save the soul condemn'd to die.

Then will I teach the world Thy ways; Sinners shall learn Thy sovereign grace; I'll lead them to my Saviour's blood, And they shall praise a pardoning God.

Oh may Thy love inspire my tongue; Salvation shall be all my song; And all my powers shall join to bless The Lord, my strength and righteousness