Dear Lord! accept a sinful heart, 
Which of itself complains, 
And mourns, with much and frequent smart, 
The evil it contains. 

There fiery seeds of anger lurk, 
Which often hurt my frame; 
And wait but for the tempter's work, 
To fan them to a flame. 

Legality holds out a bribe 
To purchase life from Thee; 
And Discontent would fain prescribe 
How Thou shalt deal with me. 

While Unbelief withstands Thy grace, 
And puts the mercy by, 
Presumption, with a brow of brass, 
Says, "Give me, or I die!" 

How eager are my thoughts to roam, 
In quest of what they love! 
But ah! when duty calls them home, 
How heavily they move! 

Oh, cleanse me in a Saviour's blood, 
Transform me by Thy power, 
And make me Thy beloved abode, 
And let me roam no more.