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1 How sad our state by nature is!
Our sin how deep it stains!
And Satan binds our captive minds
Fast in his slavish chains.
2 But there's a voice of sov'reign grace
Sounds from the sacred word;
"Ho! ye despairing sinners, come,
"And trust upon the Lord."
3 My soul obeys th' almighty call,
And runs to this relief,
I would believe thy promise, Lord,
O! Help my unbelief.
4 [To the dear fountain of thy blood,
Incarnate God I fly!
Here let me wash my spotted soul
From crimes of deepest dye.
5 Stretch out thine arm, victorious King,
My reigning sins subdue;
Drive the old dragon from his seat,
With all his hellish crew.]
6 A guilty, weak, and helpless worm,
On thy kind arms I fall:
Be thou my strength and righteousness,
My Jesus, and my all.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | How sad our state by nature is! |
Title: | Faith in Christ for pardon and sanctification |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1793 |