Job 14: Jesus, Thy power I dare confess

Jesus, Thy power I dare confess,
Out of this most polluted thing.
This sink of sin and wickedness,
Thou canst an holy creature bring;
Omnipotent to save. Thou art,
Thou canst effect a perfect cure.
And throughly cleanse my sinful heart,
And make my inmost nature pure.
Through unbelief I stagger not.
Ascribing Thy own power to Thee
Till Thou the work of faith hast wrought,
And all Thy will fulfiU'd in me;
Thy blood shall wholly sanctify.
The deep original stain erase.
And speak me up beyond the sky.
To see my Saviour face to face.
I Not one of all mankind
Can his own soul convert,
Correct a will to sin inclined,
Or change an evil heart:
This fleshly filthiness
We never can remove,
Earthly expel, and fill the place
With pure, celestial love.
This filthiness of pride
Mocks all our efforts vain;
The plague we from each other hide
Will in our hearts remain;
Corruption's fountain spreads
Throughout our lives unclean;
Defiles our thoughts, and words, and deeds,
Till all we are is sin.
Who but the' Almighty can
The work of wonders do,
Efface our dire, original stain.
Or form our spirit new?
What but the blood Divine
Which did for sinners flow,
Can purge so foul an heart as mine,
And wash me white as snow?
Omnipotent to save,
I trust my Lord, my God,
And rise with confidence to lave
My nature in Thy blood:
Thy blood, by faith applied,
Shall speak my pardon sure,
And make my soul Thy spotless bride
And keep me always pure.
This is that holiness,
That sinless purity.
Which saints in Thee alone possess,
When all possess'd by Thee.
Sinking, to this I rise,
And lost in Jesus, prove.
Thou art my caUing's highest prize,
Thou art my perfect Love.

Not one of all the sons of men,
Not one of all the angelic train
The mighty wonder can perform.
Or purify a sinful worm.
But whom the God supreme I own,
Such power belongs to Christ alone.

Thou canst a clean and holy thing
Out of a filthy sinner bring,
Make through the virtue of Thy name
Me the reverse of what I am.
Created after God anew
A spotless saint, a Christian true.

But betwixt hope and sad despair,
Till Thou Thy secret will declare.
Till Thou Thy hallowing blood apply,
Self-loathing at Thy feet I lie;
And if Thy tender mercies fail.
Foul as the fiends, I sink to hell.

Uncertain what my end shall be,
I leave my desperate cause to Thee,
For ever banish'd from Thy face
If justice triumphs over grace.
If grace prevails, I rise forgiven.
And pure in heart, return to heaven.