1 To the meek and gentle Lamb I pour out my complaint; Will not hide from Thee my shame, But tell Thee what I want: I am full of sin and pride; I am all unclean, unclean; Till Thy Spirit here abide, I cannot cease from sin. 2 Clearly do I see the way, My foot is on the path; Now, this instant, now I may Draw near by simple faith: Thou art not a distant God, Thou art still to sinners near; Every moment, if I would, My heart might feel Thee near. 3 Free as air Thy mercy streams, Thy universal