God, be merciful to me,
On Thy grace I rest my plea;
Plenteous in compassion Thou,
Blot out my transgressions now;
Wash me, make me pure within,
Cleanse, O cleanse me from my sin.

My transgressions I confess,
Grief and guilt my soul oppress;
I have sinned against Thy grace
And provoked Thee to Thy face;
I confess Thy judgment just,
Speechless, I Thy mercy trust.

I am evil, born in sin;
Thou desirest truth within.
Thou alone my Savior art,
Teach Thy wisdom to my heart;
Make me pure, Thy grace bestow,
Wash me whiter than the snow.

Broken, humbled to the dust
By Thy wrath and judgment just,
Let my contrite heart rejoice
And in gladness hear Thy voice;
From my sins O hide Thy face,
Blot them out in boundless grace.

Gracious God, my heart renew,
Make my spirit right and true;
Cast me not away from Thee,
Let Thy Spirit dwell in me;
Thy salvation’s joy impart,
Steadfast make my willing heart.

Sinners then shall learn from me
And return, O God, to Thee;
Savior, all my guilt remove,
And my tongue shall sing Thy love;
Touch my silent lips, O Lord,
And my mouth shall praise accord.

Show pity, Lord, O Lord, forgive,
Let a repenting rebel live:
Are not Thy mercies large and free?
May not a sinner trust in Thee?

My crimes are great, but not surpass
The power and glory of Thy grace:
Great God, Thy nature hath no bound,
So let Thy pardoning love be found.

O wash my soul from every sin,
And make my guilty conscience clean;
Here on my heart the burden lies,
And past offenses pain my eyes.

My lips with shame my sins confess
Against Thy law, against Thy grace:
Lord, should Thy judgment grow severe,
I am condemned, but Thou art clear.

Should sudden vengeance seize my breath,
I must pronounce Thee just in death;
And if my soul were sent to hell,
Thy righteous law approves it well.

Yet save a trembling sinner, Lord,
Whose hope, still hovering round Thy Word,
Would light on some sweet promise there,
Some sure support against despair.

In evil long I took delight,
Unawed by shame or fear,
Till a new object struck my sight,
And stopped my wild career.

I saw One hanging on a tree,
In agony and blood,
Who fixed His languid eyes on me,
As near His cross I stood.

Sure, never to my latest breath,
Can I forget that look;
It seemed to charge me with His death,
Though not a word He spoke.

My conscience felt and owned the guilt,
And plunged me in despair,
I saw my sins His blood had spilt,
And helped to nail Him there.

A second look He gave, which said,
“I freely all forgive;
This blood is for thy ransom paid;
I die that thou mayst live.”

Thus, while His death my sin displays
In all its blackest hue,
Such is the mystery of grace,
It seals my pardon too.

Come, let us to the Lord our God
With contrite hearts return;
Our God is gracious, nor will leave
The desolate to mourn.

His voice commands the tempest forth
And stills the stormy wave;
And though His arm be strong to smite,
’Tis also strong to save.

Long hath the night of sorrow reigned,
The dawn shall bring us light;
God shall appear, and we shall rise
With gladness in His sight.

Our hearts, if God we seek to know,
Shall know Him, and rejoice;
His coming like the morn shall be,
Like morning songs His voice.

As dew upon the tender herb
Diffusing fragrance round,
As show’rs that usher in the spring,
And cheer the thirsty ground.

So shall His presence bless our souls,
And shed a joyful light;
That hallowed morn shall chase away
The sorrows of the night.

Fountain of purity opened for sin
Here may the penitent wash and be clean;
Jesus, Thou blessèd Redeemer from woe,
Wash me and I shall be whiter than snow.

Refrain

Whiter than snow, whiter than snow,
Wash me, Redeemer,
And I shall be whiter than snow.

Though I have labored again and again,
All my self-cleansing is utterly vain;
Jesus, Redeemer from sorrow and woe,
Wash me and I shall be whiter than snow.

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Cleanse Thou the thoughts of my heart, I implore,
Help me Thy light to reflect more and more;
Daily in loving obedience to grow,
Wash me and I shall be whiter than snow.

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Whiter than snow! nothing further I need,
Christ is the Fountain; this only I plead;
Jesus, my Savior, to Thee will I go,
Wash me and I shall be whiter than snow.

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The Lord will happiness divine
On contrite hearts bestow;
Then tell me, gracious God, is mine
A contrite heart or no?

I hear, but seem to hear in vain,
Insensible as steel;
If aught is felt, ’tis only pain,
To find I cannot feel.

I sometimes think myself inclined
To love Thee if I could;
But often feel another mind,
Averse to all that’s good.

My best desires are faint and few,
I fain would strive for more;
But when I cry, “My strength renew!”
Seem weaker than before.

Thy saints are comforted, I know,
And love Thy house of prayer;
I therefore go where others go,
But find no comfort there.

Oh make this heart rejoice, or ache;
Decide this doubt for me;
And if it be not broken, break,
And heal it, if it be.

They call me old-fashioned because I believe
That the Bible is God’s holy Word,
That Jesus, who lived among men long ago,
Is divine, and the Christ of God.

Refrain

My sin was old-fashioned,
My guilt was old-fashioned,
God’s love was old-fashioned, I know;
And the way I was saved was the old-fashioned way,
Through the blood that makes whiter than snow.

Old-fashioned, because I believe and accept
Only what has been spoken from Heav’n;
Old-fashioned because at the cross I was saved,
At the cross had my sins forgiv’n.

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Old-fashioned, because I am bound to do right,
To walk in the straight narrow way;
Because I have given my whole life to God,
Old-fashioned because I pray.

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Old-fashioned, because I am looking above
To Jesus, my glorified Lord;
Because I believe He is coming again,
Fulfilling His holy Word.

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Lord Jesus, I long to be perfectly whole;
I want Thee forever to live in my soul.
Break down every idol, cast out every foe;
Now wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.

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Whiter than snow, yes, whiter than snow.
Now wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.

Lord Jesus, let nothing unholy remain,
Apply Thine own blood and extract ev’ry stain;
To get this blest cleansing, I all things forego—
Now wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.

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Lord Jesus, look down from Thy throne in the skies,
And help me to make a complete sacrifice.
I give up myself, and whatever I know,
Now wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.

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Lord Jesus, for this I most humbly entreat,
I wait, blessèd Lord, at Thy crucified feet.
By faith, for my cleansing, I see Thy blood flow,
Now wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.

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Lord Jesus, Thou seest I patiently wait,
Come now, and within me a new heart create;
To those who have sought Thee, Thou never saidst “No,”
Now wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.

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The blessing by faith, I receive from above;
O glory! my soul is made perfect in love;
My prayer has prevailed, and this moment I know,
The blood is applied, I am whiter than snow.

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One thing I of the Lord desire,
For all my path hath miry been,
Be it by water or by fire,
O make me clean, O make me clean.

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Wash me, Thou, without, within,
Or purge with fire, if that must be,
Anyhow, if only sin
Die out in me, die out, die out in me.

If clearer vision Thou impart,
Grateful and glad my soul shall be;
But yet to have a purer heart
Is more to me, is more to me.

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Yea, only as this heart is clean
May larger vision yet be mine,
For mirrored in its depths are seen
The things divine, the things divine.

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I watch to shun the miry way,
And stanch the springs of guilty thought,
But, watch and struggle as I may,
Pure I am not, pure I am not.

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Gracious God, my heart renew,
Make my spirit right and true;
Cast me not away from Thee,
Let Thy Spirit dwell in me;
Thy salvation’s joy impart,
Steadfast make my willing heart.

Sinners then shall learn from me
And return, O God, to Thee;
Savior, all my guilt remove,
And my tongue shall sing Thy love;
Touch my silent lips, O Lord,
And my mouth shall praise accord.

Not the formal sacrifice
Has acceptance in Thine eyes;
Broken hearts are in Thy sight
More than sacrificial rite;
Contrite spirit, pleading cries,
Thou, O God, will not despise.

Prosper Zion in Thy grace
And her broken walls replace:
Then our righteous sacrifice
Shall delight Thy holy eyes;
Free-will offerings, gladly made,
On Thine altar shall be laid.

How helpless guilty nature lies,
Unconscious of its load!
The heart, unchanged, can never rise
To happiness and God.

Can aught, beneath a power divine,
The stubborn will subdue?
’Tis Thine, almighty Spirit! Thine,
To form the heart anew.

’Tis Thine, the passions to recall,
And upward bid them rise;
To make the scales of error fall
From reason’s darkened eyes;

To chase the shades of death away,
And bid the sinner live;
A beam of Heaven, a vital ray,
’Tis Thine alone to give.

O change these wretched hearts of ours,
And give them life divine;
Then shall our passions and our powers
Almighty Lord! be Thine.

More like the Master I would ever be,
More of His meekness, more humility;
More zeal to labor, more courage to be true,
More consecration for work He bids me do.

Refrain

Take Thou my heart, I would be Thine alone;
Take Thou my heart, and make it all Thine own.
Purge me from sin, O Lord, I now implore,
Wash me and keep me Thine forevermore.

More like the Master is my daily prayer;
More strength to carry crosses I must bear;
More earnest effort to bring His kingdom in;
More of His Spirit, the wanderer to win.

Refrain

More like the Master I would live and grow;
More of His love to others I would show;
More self denial, like His in Galilee,
More like the Master I long to ever be.

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O God, the God that saveth me,
Remove my guilty stains,
And I will sing Thy righteousness
In grateful, joyous praise.

O Lord, now open Thou my lips,
Long closed by sin and shame;
My mouth shall show before the world
The glory of Thy Name.

No sacrifice dost Thou desire,
Else would I give it Thee;
Nor with appointed offerings
Wilt Thou delighted be.

A broken spirit is to God
A pleasing sacrifice;
A broken and a contrite heart
Thou, Lord, will not despise.

Do good to Zion in Thy grace,
Her ruined walls restore;
Then sacrifice of righteousness
Shall please Thee as of yore.

Thy people then, with willing hands
And hearts that Thou hast blest,
Shall bring in thankful sacrifice
Their choicest gifts and best.

O Thou that hear’st when sinners cry,
Though all my crimes before Thee lie,
Behold them not with angry look,
But blot their mem’ry from Thy book.

Create my nature pure within,
And form my soul averse to sin:
Let Thy good Spirit ne’er depart,
Nor hide Thy presence from my heart.

I cannot live without Thy light
Cast out and banished from Thy sight:
Thine holy joys, my God, restore,
And guard me that I fall no more.

Though I have grieved Thy Spirit, Lord,
His help and comfort still afford;
And let a wretch come near Thy throne,
To plead the merits of Thy Son.

A broken heart, my God, my King,
Is all the sacrifice I bring;
The God of grace will ne’er despise
A broken heart for sacrifice.

My soul lies humbled in the dust,
And owns Thy dreadful sentence just:
Look down, O Lord, with pitying eye,
And save the soul condemned to die.

Then will I teach the world Thy ways;
Sinners shall learn Thy sovereign grace;
I’ll lead them to my Savior’s blood,
And they shall praise a pard’ning God.

O may Thy love inspire my tongue!
Salvation shall be all my song;
And all my powers shall join to bless
The Lord, my strength and righteousness.

Purer yet and purer, I would be in mind,
Dearer yet and dearer, every duty find;
Hoping still, and trusting God without a fear,
Patiently believing He will make all clear.

Calmer yet and calmer, in the hour of pain,
Surer yet and surer, peace at last to gain;
Suffering still and doing, to His will resigned,
And to joy subduing heart and will and mind.

Higher yet and higher, out of clouds and sight,
Nearer yet and nearer, rising to the Light;
Light serene and holy, where my soul may rest,
Purified and holy, sanctified and blessed.

Swifter yet and swifter, ever onward run,
Firmer yet and firmer, step as I go on;
Oft these earnest longings swell within my breast,
Yet their inner meaning ne’er can be expressed.

Lord, on Thee my strength relies,
O, hear me when I call;
Up to Thee I lift mine eyes,
My Life, my Help, my All.

Refrain

Source of comfort, Spring of grace,
Cleanse my heart from every sin,
Now reveal Thy smiling face,
And make me pure within.

Rock on which my soul would rest,
From storm and tempest wild,
Gently pillowed on Thy breast,
Protect Thy weary child.

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Let Thy Spirit be my Guide,
To endless joys above;
Grant I may never turn aside,
Or once forget Thy love.

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Soon my bark will speed its flight,
To yonder portals fair,
Soon’t will reach the haven bright,
And drop its anchor there.

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Thy Holy Spirit, Lord, alone,
Can turn our hearts from sin;
His power alone can sanctify
And keep us pure within.

Thy Holy Spirit, Lord, alone
Can deeper love inspire;
His power alone within our souls
Can light the sacred fire.

Thy Holy Spirit, Lord, can bring
The gifts we seek in prayer;
His voice can words of comfort speak,
And still each wave of care.

Thy Holy Spirit, Lord, can give
The grace we need this hour;
And while we wait, O Spirit, come
In sanctifying power.

With hearts renewed, and cleansed from guilt of sin,
Send we our voices pealing to the skies;
Let a pure conscience echo joy within,
And all our powers in emulation rise:
To Father, Son and Holy Spirit’s praise,
Three Whom One Essence joins, one anthem here we raise.

Maker of all, the Father uncreate,
Of Him from everlasting born, the Son,
And the blest Spirit of co-equal state
From Both proceeding, are of substance One:
So in this Trinity the Persons three
One perfect Being are, one God, one Majesty.

Yet, none the less, each Person of the Trine
God, in His attributes distinct, we own;
Vainly would reason grasp the things divine,
Man can but bend adoring at God’s throne:
O may the Father, Son and Spirit be
Our help in time of need, our joy eternally.