Casting down their golden crowns before Thee.
Look on me, a creature of the dust,
Pity me, though I have naught of merit;
Let me bring to Thee for Jesus’ sake
Humble praises of a contrite spirit.
Bend Thine ear, dear Lord, and hear my prayer;
Cleanse me in Thy blood for sinners given;
Deck me in the robe of spotless white
Thou hast promised to Thy bride in heaven.