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MATTHEW I. 21.

“He shall save His people from their sins.”

Jesus, in whom the Godhead's rays
Beam forth with milder majesty,
I see Thee full of truth and grace,
And come for all I want to Thee.
Wrathful, impure, and proud I am,
Nor constancy, nor strength I have:
But Thou, O Lord, art still the same,
And hast not lost Thy power to save.

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Save me from pride, the plague expel;
Jesu, Thy humble self impart;
O, let Thy mind within me dwell;
O, give me lowliness of heart.
Enter Thyself, and cast out sin;
Thy spotless purity bestow;
Touch me, and make the leper clean;
Wash me, and I am white as snow.
Fury is not in Thee, my God:
O, why should it be found in Thine!
Sprinkle me, Saviour, with Thy blood,
And all Thy gentleness is mine.
Pour but Thy blood upon the flame,
Meek, and dispassionate, and mild,
The leopard sinks into a lamb,
And I become a little child.