Lord, we are vile, conceived in sin,
And born unholy and unclean;
Spring 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! I fall before Thy face;
My only refuge is Thy grace:
No outward forms can make me clean;
The leprosy lies deep within.

No bleeding bird, nor bleeding beast,
Nor hyssop branch, nor sprinkling priest,
Nor running brook, nor flood, nor sea,
Can wash the dismal stain away.

Jesus, my God, Thy blood alone
Hath power sufficient to atone;
Thy blood can make me white as snow:
No Jewish types could cleanse me so.

While guilt disturbs and breaks my peace,
Nor flesh nor soul hath rest or ease,
Lord, let me hear Thy pardoning voice,
And make my broken heart rejoice.

Isaac Watts

Copied from my grandmother’s hymnal, Hymn Book, Methodist Episcopal Church, South: Nashville, TN, 1901, Hymn #325.

Note: The hymns in this hymnal are not titled. So when I do not know the hymn, I make up a title or simply use the first line.

Photo taken in Milton, FL, 2021

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