Of all my hope and fear!

In whose dread presence, ere an hour,

Perhaps I must appear!

If I have wander'd in those paths

Of life I ought to shun;

As something, loudly, in my breast,

Remonstrates I have done;

Thou know'st that Thou hast formed me

With passions wild and strong;

And listning to their witching voice

Has often led me wrong.

Where human weakness has come short,

Or fraility stept aside,

Do Thou, All-Good! for such Thou art,

In shades of darkness hide.

Where with intention I have err'd,

No other plea I have,

But, Thou art good; and Goodness still

Delighteth to forgive.

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