Father, for Jesus' sake,
Low at the footstool of Thy throne,
I pray That Thou, into Thine arms of love, to-day My trembling soul wilt take. Thine eyes can see,
I know,
How many a dark and fearful spot of sin Stains the white garment Thou didst clothe it in, Once undefiled as snow. I dare not come alone Into Thy presence for that sin to plead;
But there is One who waits to intercede— Whose merits will atone. Into the holy place He takes the incense of our common prayer,
Which, mingling with His own, ascendeth there Up to Thy throne of grace. All too unclean it is,
Too cold and weak, above this earth to rise,
Save He, in love eternal, sanctifies And hallows it with His. Therefore accept from me,
Through His hands, now, my weak and wavering will;
And deign my heart's deep longing to fulfil, As it seems best to Thee. Pour down Thy healing light Into the dark depths of my soul this day;
Dissolve the mists and shadows—oh,
I pray, Let it no more be night! Spirit of love, reveal All hidden sins against Thy blessed name,
That I may weep for them in utter shame As in Thy church I kneel. And now, oh cleanse them out!
Make fair again Thine olden dwelling-place;
And let the fruitful streams of love and grace Compass it round about. Lord, with repentance, give Faith, deep and strong, that naught may undermine Of all that's evil in this world of Thine— Faith that shall breathe and live. Pour from the hallow'd cup Our dear Lord's stainless life into mine own;
Put it to my soul's lips—so thirsty grown— And let them drink it up.
