Retire my Soul, exert thy pow’rs
And view thy Self within;
Search every winding of my heart
And find out every Sin.
In vain, alas, in vain I strive,
I’m lost a thousand ways;
In vain I try my Self t’explore,
I’m lost in deep amaze.
My num’rous sins have form’d a mist,
My heart is hard as stone;
Great God of Nature and of Grace,
It is thy work alone.
Thou sun of righteousness arise
And drive these shades away;
Arise with healing in thy wings
And turn my night to day.
Lord soften this relentless rock,
Dissolve this heart of stone;
Dispel these thick and gloomy clouds,
For ’tis thy work alone.
Text: Steele Collection, 2/2/1; see also Whelan, Nonconformist Women Writers, vol. 8, p. 23 .