Savior, and can it be
That Thou shouldst dwell with me?
From Thy high and lof­ty throne,
Throne of ev­er­last­ing bliss,
Will Thy ma­jes­ty stoop down
To so mean a house as this?

I am not wor­thy, Lord,
So foul, so self-ab­horred,
Thee, my God, to en­ter­tain
In this poor pol­lut­ed heart:
I am a frail sin­ful man!
All my na­ture cries, De­part!

Yet come, Thou heav’n­ly Guest,
And pu­ri­fy my breast;
Come, Thou great and glo­ri­ous King,
While be­fore Thy cross I bow;
With Thy­self sal­va­tion bring,
Cleanse the house by en­ter­ing now.