1 Th'abyss of many a former sin
Encloses me, and bars me in;
Like billows my transgressions roll
Be Thou the pilot of my soul;
And to salvation’s harbor bring,
Thou Savior and Thou glorious King!

2 My Father’s heritage abused,
Wasted by lust, by sin misused;
To shame and want and mis'ry brought,
The slave to many a fruitless tho't;
I cry to Thee, who lovest men,
O pity and receive again!

3 In hunger now, no more possess'd
Of that my portion bright and blest,
The exile and the alien see,
Who yet would fain return to Thee!
Accept me, Lord, I seek Thy grace;
And let me see a Father's face!

4 With that blest thief my pray'r I make,
Remember for Thy mercy’s sake!
With that poor publican I cry,
Be merciful, O God, most high!
With that lost prodigal I fain,
Back to my home would turn again!

5 Mourn, mourn, my soul, with earnest care,
And raise to Christ the contrite pray'r;
Oh, Thou who freely wast made poor,
My sorrows and my sins to cure,
Me, poor of all good works, embrace,
Enriching with Thy boundless grace!