182 | Downs. C.M.
(397) Pardon and Sanctification in Christ.
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 sovereign grace
Sounds from the sacred word;—
“Ho! ye despairing sinners! come
And trust a faithful Lord.”
3 My soul obeys the gracious call
And runs to this relief;
I would believe thy promise, Lord!
Oh! help my unbelief.
4 To the blest fountain of thy blood,
Incarnate God! I fly;
Here let me wash my spotted soul,
From crimes of deepest dye.
5 A guilty, weak, and helpless worm,
On thy kind arms I fall;
Be thou my strength and righteousness
My Jesus, and my all.
Isaac Watts, 1707.