By A Collection of Hymns

      L.M.
      1 PIERCE, fill me with an humble fear;
      My utter helplessness reveal!
      Satan and sin are always near,
      Thee may I always nearer feel.

      2 O that to thee my constant mind
      Might with an even flame aspire,
      Pride in its earliest motions find,
      And mark the risings of desire!

      3 O that my tender soul might fly
      The first abhorred approach of ill,
      Quick as the apple of an eye,
      The slightest touch of sin to feel!

      4 Till thou anew my soul create,
      Still may I strive, and watch, and pray,
      Humbly and confidently wait,
      And long to see the perfect day.