1 From the recesses of a lowly spirit
My humble prayer ascends: O, Father, hear it!
Borne on the trembling wings of fear and meekness,
Forgive its weakness.

2 I know, I feel, how mean and unworthy
The lowly sacrifice I pour before thee:
What can I offer thee, O thou most holy,
But sin and folly?

3 Lord, in thy sight, who every bosom viewest,
Cold in our warmest vows and vain our truest
Thoughts of a hurrying hour,--our lips repeat them,
Our hearts forget them.

4 We see thy hand: it leads us, it support us,
We hear thy voice: it counsels, and it courts us:
And thee we turn away! and still thy kindness
Forgives our blindness.

5 Who can resist thy gentle call, appealing
To every generous thought and grateful feeling?
Oh, who can hear the accents. .of thy mercy,
And never love thee?

6 Kind benefactor! plant within this bosom
The seeds of holiness, and let them blossom
In fragrance and in beauty bright and vernal,
And spring eternal.