Buried in sha­dows of the night,
We lie till Christ re­stores the light;
Wisdom des­cends to heal the blind,
And chase the dark­ness of the mind.

Our guil­ty souls are drowned in tears,
Till His aton­ing blood ap­pears;
Then we awake from deep dis­tress,
And sing, The Lord, our right­eous­ness.

Our ve­ry frame is mixed with sin,
His Spir­it makes our na­tures clean;
Such vir­tues from His suf­fer­ings flow,
At once to cleanse, and par­don, too.

Jesus be­holds where Sa­tan reigns,
Binding his slaves in hea­vy chains;
He sets the pri­son­ers free, and breaks,
The ir­on bond­age from our necks.

Poor help­less worms in Thee pos­sess
Grace, wis­dom, pow­er, and right­eous­ness;
Thou art our migh­ty All, and we
Give our whole selves, O Lord, to Thee.