Verse 1
What a mystery am I,
A mystery of sin,
Full of all iniquity,
Unholy, and unclean!
Every thought of all our hearts
Only evil always is,
Now, I know, my inward parts
Are very wickedness.

Verse 2
Strip’d of every boasted grace,
Of every shew of good,
Still I am but what I was,
Unchang’d, and unrenew’d.
Dust and ashes is my name,
Sinful dust and ashes I,
Bearing all my sin and shame,
At Jesu’s feet I lie.

Verse 3
From a thing like me unclean,
A clean and holy thing,
Who of all the sons of men
Can ever hope to bring?
All our strife at last must cease,
All our strength and wisdom fail,
Such a work we must confess
With man impossible.

Verse 4
But shall human weakness dare
To limit strength divine?
Teach almighty wisdom where
To lay the measuring line?
Yes; we give our God the lye,
Trample on the, all-cleansing blood,
From all sin to save, we cry,
This is too hard for God.

Verse 5
Still we listen to our foe,
His other gospel hear,
“No perfection is below:
No love that casts out fear,
Fear, and sin must still remain,
Still in you maintain their seat,
Sin sometimes will always reign,
And force you to submit.”

Verse 6
Soon as Satan gives the word,
His advocates for sin,
Witness with their lying lord,
“Ye never can be clean
From all sin, while here below;
Do not you the word receive,
God’s own word may tell you so,
But do not you believe.”

Verse 7
Flesh and blood cry out amain
It cannot, cannot be!
All my faith and hope is vain
From sin to be set free:
I with only evil fraught,
Full of desp’rate wickedness,
I who sin in every thought,
Can I from sinning cease?

Verse 8
World, and sin, and Satan go,
And ask my faithful Lord,
Surely I the truth shall know,
For he hath spoke the word:
Whether every perfect one
Shall not as his Master be,
Thou shalt shortly make it known,
Shalt answer, Lord, for me.