1 Dear Savior, when my thoughts recall
The wonders of thy grace;
Low at thy feet asham'd I fall,
And hide this wretched face.

2 Shall love like thine be thus repaid?
Ah vile ungrateful heart!
By earth's low cares, detain'd, betray'd,
From Jesus to depart.

3 From Jesus who alone can give
True pleasure, peace, and rest:
When Absent from my Lord, I live
Unsatisfy'd unblest.

4 But he, for his own mercy's sake,
My wand'ring soul restores:
He bids the mourning heart partake
The pardon it implores.

5 O while I breathe to thee my Lord,
The penitential sigh,
Confirm the kind, forgiving word
With pity in thine eye!

6 Then shall the mourner at thy feet,
Rejoice to seek thy face;
And grateful own how kind! how sweet!
Thy condescending grace.