Though I should seek to wash me clean

1Though I should seek to wash me clean In waters of the driven snow,
My soul would yet its spots retain, And foul as black and putrid grow.

2God's law in all its power divine Condemns my erring soul to death;
Declares its vileness of the line, And shows the vileness of its worth.

3There must a Mediator plead Whom God and man each may embrace,
With God for man to intercede, And offer in the purchased grace.

4And thus the Son of God is slain To be this Mediator crowned;
In him, my soul, be cleansed from stain, In him, my righteousness be found.