tr., John Brownlie

8,6,8,6,8,8

I

O Jesus, when my guilty fears

My wakened soul distress,

And Judgment for the past appears

In all its awfulness, --

Bid gathering clouds asunder roll,

And shed Thy sunshine in my soul.

II

When from their long-forgotten grave

My guilty deeds arise,

And terror proves me yet the slave

My soul would fain despise, --

From stings of memory heal my soul,

And free me from sin's dire control.

III

O Lord, in Whom my hope is set,

I look in faith to Thee;

From sin, and guilt, and sad regret,

My soul in mercy free; --

For, in that mercy, Lord, I trust,

And lie, repenting, in the dust.