1 'Tis false: thou vile accuser, go,
I see thro' all the thin disguise,
Back to thy native realms below,
Thou parent of deceit and lies!
2 Think not to drive my trembling soul,
Laden with guilt, to black despair;
hast thou surveyed the sacred roll,
And found my name not written there.
3 Presumptuous thought! to fix the bound
To limit mercy's sovereign reign:
What other happy souls have found,
I'll seek, nor shall I seek in vain.
4 I own my guilt thy charge confess,
Nor can thy malice make it more,
Of crimes already numberless,
Vain the attempt to swell the score.
5 Set the black lift before my sight;
Whil I remember Jesus dy'd,
'Twill only urge my speedire flight,
To seek salvation at thy side.
6 Low at his feet I'll cast me down,
To him reveal my grief and fear;
And if he spurns me from his throne,
I'll be the first who perish there.
Source: A Selection of Psalms and Hymns: done under the appointment of the Philadelphian Association #CXLVIII
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