Hymn 115 Poem by Isaac Watts

Conviction of sin by the law.

Rom. 7:8,9,14,24.

Lord, how secure my conscience was,
And felt no inward dread!
I was alive without the law,
And thought my sins were dead.

My hopes of heav'n were firm and bright,
But since the precept came
With a convincing power and light,
I find how vile I am.

[My guilt appeared but small before,
Till terribly I saw
How perfect, holy, just, and pure,
Was thine eternal law.

Then felt my soul the heavy load,
My sins revived again
I had provoked a dreadful God,
And all my hopes were slain.]

I'm like a helpless captive, sold
Under the power of sin
I cannot do the good I would,
Nor keep my conscience clean.

My God, I cry with every breath
For some kind power to save,
To break the yoke of sin and death,
And thus redeem the slave.