Lent

Thou Who didst touch the leper foul,
And cleanse him with the word " I will, "
Have mercy on Thy sinful child,
Touch me too in Thy mercy mild,
My plague is fouler still.

He bore the brand upon his flesh,
Mine lieth deep and dark within,
Down in my heart where bad thoughts hide,
Where passion reigns, and wrath, and pride,
The leprosy of sin.

The leper felt his fearful doom,
But I am cold and slow to see
My strength how weak, my sins how great,
The misery of my lost estate,
And all my need of Thee.

'Tis Thou alone canst make me clean,
O Blessed Saviour, if Thou wilt,
And 'tis Thy will, full well I know,
To wash me all as white as snow,
For this Thy blood was spilt.

I cannot feel Thy healing touch,
I cannot see the river flow,
The cleansing water, and the blood,
But I can bring to that pure flood
My load of sin and woe.

This deep corruption cleanse, O Lord,
Unseen, but open to Thy sight;
My sinful soul doth trembling stand,
Touch it with purifying hand,
And make the scarlet white.
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