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3300.

[Conscious of all that I have done]

Conscious of all that I have done,
Since first I would from God depart,
I cannot bear, I cannot shun,
The dire reproach of my own heart,
The stings of grief, remorse, and fear,
Presaging death and judgment near.
Memory severe, and secret shame,
With scorpion whips my spirit tear;
Caught in the toils of hell I am,
The pit of bottomless despair:
The gnawings of that worm I feel,
Which only Jesus' blood can kill.
O that I could in Him believe
And find the fountain in His side!
O that I could His blood perceive,
To this foul, faithless heart applied!
Saviour, from all my sins release,
And bid me now depart in peace.

147

Sprinkle, and make my conscience pure,
For this alone on earth I stay,
And humbly of Thy favour sure
Would hasten to shake off my clay,
With joy my hallow'd soul resign,
And plunge in depths of love Divine!