How must it sharpen every pang of guilt
To think, for us the Saviour’s blood was spilt;
To know we might have had our sins forgiven,
And lived forever with the loved in Heaven.
In view of anguish deep we then must feel.
No wounds of sin may we here slightly heal.
Broad as th’ offense, confession I will make,
And all my dear, loved idol sins forsake.
Yes, glory be to God! the victory’s gained,
And self-denial shall be hence maintained.