The Only Plea

Prostrate, dear Jesus, at thy feet,

A guilty rebel lies;

And upwards, to thy mercy-seat,

Presumes to lift his eyes.

Let not thy justice frown me hence;

Oh, stay the vengeful storm;

Forbid it, that Omnipotence

Should crush a feeble worm.

If tears of sorrow could suffice

To pay the debt I owe,

Tears should, from both my weeping eyes,

In ceaseless currents flow.

But no such sacrifice I plead

To expiate my guilt;

No tears, but those which thou hast shed,--

No blood, but thou hast spilt.

Think of thy sorrows, dearest Lord!

And all my sins forgive,

Then justice will approve the word,

That bids the sinner lives.