Hymns on the Lord's Supper, 151

Come, Thou Spirit of contrition,
Fill our souls with tender fears-;
Conscious of our lost condition,
Melt us into gracious tears;
Just and holy detestation
Of our bosom sins impart,
Sins that caused our Saviour's passion,
Sins that stabb'd Him to the heart.

Fill our flesh with killing anguish,
All our members crucify,
Let the' offending nature languish
Till on Jesu's cross it die;
All our sins to death deliver,
Let not one, not one survive;
Then we live to God for ever,
Then in heaven on earth we live.