Unclean, of life and heart un­clean,
How shall I in His sight ap­pear?
Conscious of my in­vet­er­ate sin
I blush and trem­ble to draw near;
Yet, through the gar­ment of His Word,
I hum­bly seek to touch my Lord.

Turn then, Thou good Phy­si­cian, turn,
Thou source of un­ex­haust­ed love;
Sole com­fort­er of souls for­lorn,
Who on­ly canst my plague re­move,
O cast a pi­ty­ing look on me
Who dare not lift mine eyes to Thee!

Yet will I in my God con­fide,
Who comes to meet my seek­ing soul;
I wait to feel Thy blood ap­plied,
Thy blood ap­plied shall make me whole;
And lo! I trust Thy gra­cious pow­er
To touch, and heal me, in this hour.