With sin and guilt poor Zion toils,

With sin and guilt poor Zion toils,
And labours hard for peace;
But till the Lord the Saviour smiles,
Her conscience gets no ease.

Her efforts all abortive prove;
Her working makes her worse;
Nought but the Saviour's flesh and blood
Can save her from the curse.

The Lord the Saviour is her rest;
On him she casts her cares;
By faith she leans upon his breast,
And banishes her fears.

But till the Holy Ghost applies
The Saviour's precious blood,
Above her guilt she cannot rise,
Nor lean upon her God.