Of past offences, hates the bosom sin
The most, which most the soul took pleasure in;
No crime unsifted, no sin unpresented
Can lurk unseen, and seen, none unlamented;
The troubled soul’s amazed with dire aspects
Of lesser sins committed, and detects
The wounded conscience; it cries amain
For mercy—mercy; cries, and cries again.
It sadly grieves, and soberly laments,
It yearns for grace, reforms, returns, repents.