1 What strange perplexities arise?
What anxious fears and jealousies?
What crowds in doubtful light appear?
How few, alas, approv'd and clear!

2 And what am I?—My soul, awake,
And an impartial survey take;
Does no dark sign, no ground of fear,
In practice or in heart appear?

3 What image does my spirit bear?
Is Jesus form'd, and living there?
Say, do his lineaments divine
In thought, and word, and action shine!

4 Searcher of hearts, O search me still;
The secrets of my soul reveal;
My fears remove; let me appear
To God and my own conscience clear.

5 Scatter the clouds, that o'er my head
Thick glooms of dubious terrors spread;
Lead me into celestial day,
And, to myself, myself display.

6 May I at that bless'd world arrive,
Where Christ thro' all my soul shall live,
And give full proof that he is there,
Without one gloomy doubt or fear.