How Vain, Great God

How vain

great God

and worse than vain

How sin­ful our pre­tend­ed pain

In this our ev­il day!

Unless we to our Smit­er turn

The cause of all our ev­ils mourn

And cast our sins away.

’Gainst vice we par­tial­ly de­claim

With un­dis­cern­ing cen­sure blame

Our na­tion’s wick­ed­ness:

But O! The sin that loud­est cries

For all the ven­geance of the skies

We nev­er once con­fess.

O might we from our hearts re­pent

Of scorn­ing Him Thy pi­ty sent

To heal our sin and grief!

Assist us through Thy Spir­it’s pow­er

To own

and feel­ing­ly de­plore

Our damn­ing un­be­lief.

Convince the wretc­hes who de­ny

Their Lord

that stooped for them to die

Who tri­umph in His pain

Who tram­ple on His pre­cious blood

And hate

and scoff the dy­ing God

And cru­ci­fy again.

Confound the mis­be­liev­ing pride

Of those that im­pi­ous­ly di­vide

Thy dear­est Son and Thee

Who will not Him Thine eq­ual own

But mad­ly threat­en to de­throne

The fi­li­al De­ity.

And O! Al­migh­ty Son of God

Into the blind self right­eous crowd

Thy sharp­est ar­rows dart;

The men who in­fi­dels con­demn

Nor ev­er knew them­selves the same

Mere in­fi­dels in heart.

A for­mal self de­ceiv­ing race

Who mock the coun­sel of Thy grace

The sense of sins for­giv’n

The pow­er of god­li­ness ex­plode

The wit­ness

and the peace of God

And faith that leads to Heav­en.

Forgive us

Lord

for such we were

And all our guil­ty breth­ren spare

Our un­belief re­prove

Give us that root of sins to own

And make our wound­ed spir­its groan

Beneath their want of love.

Let all the faith­less na­tion cry

Redeem us

Sav­ior

or we die

A se­cond death to feel:

O Je­sus

Thine on­ly name and blood

Can save us from the wrath of God

Can ran­som us from hell.

On Thee our dy­ing souls we cast

Our dy­ing souls re­ceive at last

And in Thy arms em­brace

To tri­umph in Thy par­don­ing love

And sing with all the saved above

Thine ev­er­last­ing praise.