Help me, Lord,
For I am tortured by my thoughts—
Base thoughts that feast upon ideas they ought to spew.
Secret sins, indeed!
To say they’re hidden is to lie.
Perhaps from human eye they dance unseen,
But nothing can escape Your penetrating view.
Search me, Lord.
Reveal to me my wickedness,
That it become as vile to me as putrid sore.
Let me see.
Let me see, indeed!
The beauty of Your matchless grace,
And gaze upon Your face, that I may learn
To hate the things You hate and love what You adore.
Fill me, Lord.
O fill me with Your Holy Ghost
Until there be no room for wicked thoughts to cling.
Set me free.
Set me free, indeed!
To fly as if on eagles’ wing.
Unfettered, now I sing a joyful tune
Of adoration to my Savior, Lord, and King!