1 Out of the depths to Thee I raise
The voice of lamentation;
Lord, turn a gracious ear to me,
And hear my supplication.
If Thou shouldst count our every sin,
Each evil deed or thought within,
O who could stand before Thee?

2 To wash away the crimson stain
Grace, grace alone prevaileth.
Our works, alas! are all in vain;
In much the best life faileth.
For none can glory in Thy sight,
All must alike confess Thy might
And live alone by mercy.

3 Therefore my trust is in the Lord,
And not in mine own merit.
On God my soul shall rest; God's work
Upholds my fainting spirit.
God's promised mercy is my fort,
My comfort, and my strong support;
I wait for it with patience.

4 What though I wait the live-long night,
And till the dawn appeareth,
My heart still trusteth in God's might;
It doubteth not nor feareth:
So let the Israelites in heart,
Born of the Spirit, do their part,
And wait till God appeareth.