Lord, didst Thou die, but not for me?
Am I forbid to trust Thy blood?
Hast Thou not pardons, rich and free?
And grace, an overwhelming flood?
Who, then, shall drive my trembling soul
From Thee to regions of despair?
Who has surveyed the sacred scroll,
And found my name not written there?
I own my guilt, my sins confess;
Can men or devils make them more?
Of crimes, already numberless,
Vain the attempt to swell the score.
Low at Thy feet I'll cast me down,
To Thee reveal my guilt and fear;
And, if Thou spurn me from Thy throne,
I'll be the first that perished there.
--Author Unknown
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