When with a Mind devoutly prest,
Dear Saviour! my revolving Breast
 Wou'd past Offences trace;
Trembling I make the black Review,
Yet pleas'd behold, admiring too,
 The Power of changing Grace.

This Tongue , with Blasphemies defil'd,
These Feet , to erring Paths beguil'd,
 In heav'nly League agree;
Who could believe such Lips could praise,
Or think my dark and winding Ways
 Shou'd ever lead to thee?

These Eyes , that once abus'd their Sight,
Now lift to thee their wat'ry Light,
 And weep a silent Flood;
These Hands ascend in ceaseless Pray'r,
O wash away the Stains they wear
 In pure, redeeming Blood .

These Ears , that pleas'd cou'd entertain
The Midnight Oath, the lustful Strain,
 When round the festial Board;
Now deaf to all th' enchanting Noise,
Avoid the Throng, detest their Joys,
 And press to hear thy Word.

Thus art thou serv'd in ev'ry Part.
O would'st thou but transform my Heart ,
 That drossy Thing refine;
That Grace might Nature's Strength controul,
And a new Creature ——Body——Soul,
 Be all, be ever thine.