Self-condemnèd and abhorred,

Self-condemnèd and abhorred,
How shall I approach the Lord?
Hard my heart, and cold, and faint;
Full of every sad complaint.

What can soften hearts of stone?
Jesus' precious blood alone;
When the Spirit it imparts,
That will soften hardest hearts.

This would bruise my bosom well,
Make it with God's praises swell;
Squeeze my idols from my breast,
Bring the blessed gospel-rest.

O! the rock which Moses struck,
Soon would make my heart a brook;
Only this can make me feel;
Bring it with thy burial-seal.

With its oil my limbs anoint;
That will supple every joint.
Of its honey let me eat;
That will make my temper sweet.