Job 14: Not one of our polluted race

Not one of our polluted race,
Not one of the angelic kind,
Can man's ingratitude efface,
Or change the filthy, carnal mind:
Such power belongs to Him alone,
Who heal'd the leper at His feet;
He can in me His grace make known.
He can the cleansing word repeat.

My hope of spotless righteousness
I build on His omnipotence
He now my prostrate spirit sees,
He soon my evil heart shall cleanse;
Confiding in His gracious will,
Who did for me His life resign,
I wait the sovereign touch to feel,
I catch the purity Divine.

Throughout my fallen soul I own
Such power belongs to Thee alone.
Thou slaughter'd Lamb of God,
Who didst for foulest sinners die,
Us to redeem and sanctify.
Through " thy all-cleansing blood.

That blood Divine, so freely spilt.
To purge the universal guilt,
Can make an end of sin.
Wash all these filthy thoughts away,
A fountain in my nature stay.
And keep me pure within.

INTy nature, Lord, is foul as hell.
Till Thou Thy spotless love reveal,
Thy purity impart:
Forgive the sins which I confess,
And cleanse from all unrighteousness,
By dwelling in my heart.

Then, when Thou dost possess me whole,
And make my body, spirit, soul
A temple worthy Thee,
Thou wilt Thy sacred house maintain,
Nor shall an earthly thought or vain
One moment lodge in me.