Lord I Am Vile Conceived In Sin
LORD, we are vile, conceived in sin,
And born unholy and unclean;
Sprung from the man whose guilty fall
Corrupts his race, and taints us all.
Soon as we draw our infant breath
The seeds of sin grow up for death;
Thy law demands a perfect heart,
But we’re defiled in every part.
Behold, we fall before thy face;
Our only refuge is thy grace:
No outward forms can make us clean;
The leprosy lies deep within.
No bleeding bird, nor bleeding beast,
No hyssop branch, nor sprinkling priest,
Nor running brook, nor flood, nor sea,
Can wash the dismal stain away.
Jesus, thy blood, thy blood alone.
Hath power sufficient to atone;
Thy blood can make us white as snow;
No Jewish types could cleanse us so.
While guilt disturbs and breaks our peace,
Nor flesh nor soul hath rest or ease;
Lord, let us hear thy pard’ning voice,
And make these broken hearts rejoice.