Whene'er, to wash thyself, thou dost begin,
With earnestness to thy Creator pray,
That he'll be pleas'd to cleanse thy soul from sin,
And wash thy errors, in Christ's blood, away.

To free thy flesh from outward filth - a flood,
Nay, e'en a sea of water, wou'd be vain,
Unless thy conscience in thy Saviour's blood
Be cleans'd from vice and ev'ry inward stain.

It nought avails thee, that thy face is clean,
If thy corrupted mind be void of grace:
God takes no pleasure in the man, I ween,
Whose heart is not as spotless as his face.