What shall I do, my God, my God?
I ask in Je­su’s name.
Unsanctified, and un­re­newed
I still re­main the same.

Sin, on­ly sin in me I find;
I can­not sub­ject be
To Thy com­mand; my car­nal mind
Is en­mi­ty to Thee.

But Thou canst wash the le­per clean,
The stone to flesh con­vert,
Canst make the Ethi­op change his skin,
And pur­ify my heart.

Then on­ly, when by grace re­newed
My will with Thine shall suit:
O make the tree of na­ture good,
And good shall be its fruit.

I strive in all I do to please
With end­less grief and pain,
But can­not, Lord, from sin­ning cease,
Till I am born again.

With Thee my vir­tue is but vice,
My good is spe­cious ill,
’Tis self, ’tis na­ture in dis­guise,
And I am car­nal still.

No work of mine, or word, or thought
Thy judg­ment can ab­ide,
Thy glo­ry, Lord, I nev­er sought,
For all my soul is pride.

What have I then where­in to trust?
How must I come to Thee?
Foul as I am, cond­emned and lost,
Thy Son hath died for me.

Jesus hath died that I might live,
Might live to God alone,
In Him eter­nal life re­ceive,
And be in spir­it one.

Savior, I thank Thee for the grace,
The gift un­speak­able,
And wait, with arms of faith t’em­brace,
And all Thy love to feel.

My soul breaks out in strong de­sire
The per­fect bliss to prove,
My long­ing soul is all on fire
To be dis­solved in love.

Give me Thy­self, from ev­ery boast,
From ev­ery wish set free.
Let all I am in Thee be lost,
But give Thy­self to me.

Thy gifts, al­as! can­not suf­fice,
Unless Thy­self be giv’n,
Thy pre­sence makes my pa­ra­dise,
And where Thou art is Heav’n.