From Depths of Woe I Raise to Thee

From depths of woe I raise to thee The voice of lamentation; Lord, turn a gracious ear to me And hear my supplication: If thou iniquities dost mark, Our secret sins and misdeeds dark, O who shall stand before thee? To wash away the crimson stain, Grace, grace alone...

No, Not Despairingly Come I to Thee

No, not despairingly Come I to thee; No, not distrustingly Bend I the knee: Sin hath gone over me, Yet is this still my plea, Jesus hath died. Ah! Mine iniquity Crimson has been, Infinite, infinite, Sin up sin; Sin of not loving thee, Sin of not trusting thee,...