I want a principle within of watchful, godly fear,
A sensibility of sin, a pain to feel it near.
I want the first approach to feel of pride or wrong desire,
To catch the wand'ring of my will, and quench the kindling fire.
A sensibility of sin, a pain to feel it near.
I want the first approach to feel of pride or wrong desire,
To catch the wand'ring of my will, and quench the kindling fire.
From Thee that I no more may stray, no more Thy goodness grieve,
Grant me the filial awe, I pray, the tender conscience give.
Quick as the apple of an eye, O God, my conscience make;
Awake my soul when sin is nigh, and keep it still awake.
Grant me the filial awe, I pray, the tender conscience give.
Quick as the apple of an eye, O God, my conscience make;
Awake my soul when sin is nigh, and keep it still awake.
Almighty God of truth and love, to me Thy pow'r împart;
The mountain from my soul remove, the hardness from my heart.
Oh, may the least omission pain my reawakened soul,
And drive me to that blood again, which makes the wounded whole.
The mountain from my soul remove, the hardness from my heart.
Oh, may the least omission pain my reawakened soul,
And drive me to that blood again, which makes the wounded whole.
I want a principle within of watchful, godly fear,
A sensibility of sin, a pain to feel it near.
I want the first approach to feel of pride or wrong desire,
To catch the wand'ring of my will, and quench the kindling fire.
A sensibility of sin, a pain to feel it near.
I want the first approach to feel of pride or wrong desire,
To catch the wand'ring of my will, and quench the kindling fire.
From Thee that I no more may stray, no more Thy goodness grieve,
Grant me the filial awe, I pray, the tender conscience give.
Quick as the apple of an eye, O God, my conscience make;
Awake my soul when sin is nigh, and keep it still awake.
Grant me the filial awe, I pray, the tender conscience give.
Quick as the apple of an eye, O God, my conscience make;
Awake my soul when sin is nigh, and keep it still awake.
Almighty God of truth and love, to me Thy pow'r împart;
The mountain from my soul remove, the hardness from my heart.
Oh, may the least omission pain my reawakened soul,
And drive me to that blood again, which makes the wounded whole.
The mountain from my soul remove, the hardness from my heart.
Oh, may the least omission pain my reawakened soul,
And drive me to that blood again, which makes the wounded whole.
