O, that I could repent! With all my idols part,
And to Thy gracious eye present A humble contrite heart.

A heart with grief oppressed For having grieved my God,
A troubled heart that cannot rest Till sprinkled with Thy blood.

Jesus, on me bestow The penitent desire;
With true sincerity of woe My aching breast inspire.

With soft'ning pity look, And melt my hardness down;
Strike with Thy love's resistless stroke, And break this heart of stone.