John S. B. Monsell

My sins, my sins, my Saviour!
     They take such hold on me,

My sins, my sins, my Saviour!
     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 Saviour!
     How sad on Thee they fall;
Seen through Thy gentle patience,
     I ten-fold feel 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 Saviour!
     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 pray’r,
And saw the sweat-drops bloody
     That told Thy sorrow there.

Therefore my songs, my Saviour,
     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 Saviour,
     That live in Thee alone.

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