My sin-sick soul in death was held,

Without remission, hope expelled.

Self-righteousness -my only plea;

Condemnation, God’s decree.

 

All effort, merit on my part,

Could not atone or cleanse my heart.

A lifeless corpse, a scarlet stain;

A darkened mind, a tongue profane.

 

A slave to sin without recourse;

Heinous crimes and no remorse.

Could hope there be for one so lost?

Drowning fast in tempest tossed.

 

A wooing comes from Spirit strange,

And calls me to an inward change.

A light is dawned upon my soul;

The gospel bright in full control.

 

My only hope is sovereign grace;

Substitution in my place.

A remedy outside of me,

The blood of Christ- my only plea.

 

A robe of righteousness is given;

All trespasses and sins forgiven.

In Christ alone salvation found;

Where reigning sin did once abound

 

The best I had was filthy rags;

Futile efforts and empty brags.

Now in Christ I’m justified,

The Father’s wrath is satisfied.

 

A life now lived for Christ my King,

In fiery trials and suffering.

But nothing can my soul undress,

Clothed in alien righteousness.