Preparation for Death, 17

A sinner ready to expire,
Afraid to drop the sinful clay,
With vehemence of intense desire,
For peace and purity I pray.

Unless Thou wash my life from sin,
Saviour, I have no part in Thee,
Unless Thou make my nature clean,
The holy God I cannot see.

Obedient saints, and they alone,
Into the sacred city press,
And, conquering all, partake Thy throne,
And, pure in heart, behold Thy face.

The meetness for that rapturous sight,
Is all I can on earth request;
The righteous robe, the linen white,
To' adorn me for that heavenly feast.

The law-fulfilling power of love,
Lover of souls, to me impart;
And then Thy easy yoke I prove,
Thy lowly, meek, obedient heart:

Then, then I feel redemption nigh,
Listening I catch the welcome word,
"Go, get thee up the mount, and die,
And live triumphant with thy Lord."