Classic Poem

O Lord, I with the outward ear
Have heard of thee before;
I knowledge had that wanted fear,
Nor led me to adore.

But now mine eyes more clearly see,
In fair Immanuel's face,
Thy wisdom, pow'r, and majesty,
Thy glorious truth and grace.

My present views of thee so far
Exceed the former sort,
As demonstration ocular,
Exceeds a bare report.

Hence, conscious-stings, like arrows smart,
Deep in my bosom stick;
And self-displeasure strikes my heart,
And wounds me to the quick.

For now myself I lothe and hate;
With shame my face I vail;
And all my errors past, of late,
In dust and ashes wail.

I grew impatient of the rod,
Nor can I answer why
I clear'd myself, and censur'd God,
O what a beast was I!

Unwise I curs'd the very day
In which thou gav'st me birth;
And challeng'd rash thy sov'reign sway,
And government on earth.

Lo! then, my brutish ignorance,
I through thy grace repent;
My passion, pride, and arrogance,
With tears I now resent.

How base and blinded have I been,
That set myself so high!
But having now thy glory seen,
I low before thee lie.

At mercy's feet I'll hopeful stay:
For never was the case,
That one was lost, who prostrate lay
Before the throne of grace.