To thee I look, my heart prepare;
Suggest, and hearken to my prayer.
Fain would I know, as known by thee,
And feel the indigence I see:
Fain would I all my vileness own,
And deep beneath the burden groan;
Abhor the pride that lurks within,
Detest and loathe myself and sin.
Wesley.
’Tis a point I long to know,