A servant unto Thee,
Thou God, by all adored!
Then, though by friends out-cast,
Thy hand would hold me fast,
And draw me near to Thee, my King and Lord!
Contrite and full of dread,
I mourn each moment fled,
’Midst idle follies roaming desolate:
I sink beneath transgressions manifold,
That from Thy presence keep me separate,