True Contrition

My sins, my sins, my Savior!
They take such hold on me,
I am not able to look up,
Save only, Christ, to Thee;
In Thee is all forgiveness,
In Thee abundant grace,
My shadow and my sunshine
The brightness of Thy face.

My sins, my sins, my Savior!
How sad on Thee they fall,
Seen through Thy gentle patience,
I tenfold fell them all;
I know they are forgiven;
But still their pain to me
Is all the grief and anguish
They laid, my Lord, on Thee!

My sins, my sins, my Savior!
Their guilt I never knew
Till, with Thee in the desert
I near Thy Passion drew;
Till, with Thee, in the garden
I heard Thy pleading prayer,
And saw the sweat-drops bloody,
That told Thy sorrow there.

Therefore my songs, my Savior,
E’en in this time of woe,
Shall tell of all Thy goodness,
To suffering man below;
Thy goodness and Thy favor,
Whose presence from above
Rejoice those hearts, my Savior,
That live in Thee and love.

—John S.B. Monsell

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