Isaac Watts, 1674-1748
While I keep silence, and conceal|
My heavy guilt within my heart,
What torments doth my conscience feel!
What agonies of inward smart!
2. I spread my sins before the Lord,
3. For this shall every humble soul|
Make swift addresses to thy seat;
When floods of huge temptations roll,
There shall they find a bless'd retreat.
4. How safe beneath thy wings I lie,
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