Lord, should'st thou weigh my righteousness Or mark what I have done amiss, How should thy servant stand? Tho' others might, yet surely I Must hide my face, nor dare to cry For mercy at thy hand. But thou art loth thy bolts to shoot; Backward and slow to execute The vengeance due to me: Thou dost not willingly reprove, For all the mild effects of love Are center'd, Lord, in thee. Shine, then, thou all-subduing light, The powers of darkness put to flight Nor from me ever part: From earth to heaven be thou my guide, And O, above each gift beside, Give me an upright heart.