Classic Poem

Lord! first created by thy hand,
And still by thee preserv'd, I stand;
Wert thou but once withdrawn, my frame
Would sink to nothing, whence it came.
Yet, Lord, with shame I would confess
That I have lov'd and serv'd thee less:
How frail my best endeavours be,
My services unworthy thee!
No plea of mercy at thy throne
Can I present, but guilt alone.
My past transgressions, Lord forgive,
And teach me, as I ought, to live;
While here conduct me by thy grace,
And bring me to thy holy place.