How help­less guil­ty na­ture lies,
Unconscious of its load!
The heart, un­changed, can ne­ver rise
To hap­pi­ness and God.

Can aught, be­neath a pow­er di­vine,
The stub­born will sub­due?
’Tis Thine, al­migh­ty Spir­it! Thine,
To form the heart anew.

’Tis Thine, the pas­sions to re­call,
And up­ward bid them rise;
To make the scales of er­ror fall
From rea­son’s dark­ened eyes;

To chase the shades of death away,
And bid the sin­ner live;
A beam of Heav’n, a vi­tal ray,
’Tis Thine alone to give.

O change these wretch­ed hearts of ours,
And give them life di­vine;
Then shall our pas­sions and our pow­ers
Almighty Lord! be Thine.