tr., John Brownlie 8,6,8,6,8,8 I O Jesus, when my guilty fears My wakened soul distress, And Judgment for the past appears In all its awfulness, -- Bid gathering clouds asunder roll, And shed Thy sunshine in my soul. II When from their long-forgotten grave My guilty deeds arise, And terror proves me yet the slave My soul would fain despise, -- From stings of memory heal my soul, And free me from sin's dire control. III O Lord, in Whom my hope is set, I look in faith to Thee; From sin, and guilt, and sad regret, My soul in mercy free; -- For, in that mercy, Lord, I trust, And lie, repenting, in the dust. |