1 O THAT I could repent!
With all my idols part,
And to thy gracious eye present
A humble, contrite heart;
A heart with grief opprest
For having grieved my God,
A troubled heart that cannot rest,
Till sprinkled with thy blood.

2 Jesus, on me bestow
The penitent desire;
With true sincerity of woe
My aching breast inspire;
With softening pity look,
And melt my hardness down,
Strike with thy love's resistless stroke,
And break this heart of stone!

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