My God! how perfect are thy ways! But mine polluted are;
My God! how perfect are thy ways! But mine polluted are; Sin twines itself about my praise, And slides into my prayer.
When I would speak what thou hast done To save me from my sin, I cannot make thy mercies known, But self-applause creeps in.
Divine desire, that holy flame Thy grace creates in me; Alas! impatience is its name, When it returns to thee.
This heart, a fountain of vile thoughts, How does it overflow? While self upon the surface floats, Still bubbling from below!
Let others in the gaudy dress Of fancied merit shine; The Lord shall be my righteousness, The Lord for ever mine.
~ William Cowper
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