Hatred of Sin

I

Holy Lord God! I love thy truth,
Nor dare thy least commandments slight;
Yet pierced by sin, the serpent’s tooth,
I mourn the anguish of the bite.

II

But though the poison lurks within,
Hope bids me still with patience wait;
Till death shall set me free from sin,
Free from the only thing I hate.

III

Had I a throne above the rest,
Where angels and archangels dwell,
One sin, unslain, within my breast,
Would make that heav’n as dark as hell.

IV

The pris’ner, sent to breathe fresh air,
And bless’d with liberty again,
Would mourn were he condemn’d to wear
One link of all his former chain.

V

But oh! no foe invades the bliss
When glory crowns the Christian’s head;
One view of Jesus as he is
Will strike all sin for ever dead.