Lord, we con­fess our nu­mer­ous faults,
How great our guilt has been;
Foolish and vain were all our thoughts,
And all our lives were sin.

But, O my soul, for ev­er praise,
For ev­er love His name,
Who turns thy feet from dan­ger­ous ways
Of fol­ly, sin and shame.

’Tis not by works of right­eous­ness
Which our own hands have done;
But we are saved by so­ver­eign grace
Abounding thro’ His Son.

’Tis from the mer­cy of our God
That all our hopes be­gin;
’Tis by the wa­ter and the blood
Our souls are washed from sin.

’Tis thro’ the pur­chase of His death
Who hung up­on the tree,
The Spir­it is sent down to breathe
On such dry bones as we.

Raised from the dead we live anew;
And, jus­ti­fied by grace,
We shall ap­pear in glo­ry too,
And see our Fa­ther’s face.