A vessel tossed among the towering waves;
A tender reed reviled by raging winds;
A blooming flower blighted by the frost;
A vapor vanquished as the sun ascends.
Oh, what am I, but weak and frail,
When sin’s dark Enemy assaults my mind,
And wickedness abounds on every side,
And even my own flesh desires my will to bind?
The good I will to do becomes a filthy rag
As soon as it has exited my tainted flesh;
The evil that I would not do, becomes instead my offering
Each day, with tears, and fears, and trembling afresh.
A wretched one I am! Who shall deliver me?
I cannot place my trust in one like me, with debt
To pay; I cannot dwell before the living God’s pure Purity
In these my garish garments, still by sin beset!
Thanks be to God that I can sing a song of victory
In Jesus Christ- true God, and truly man- Who died for me!