1 How long we've been the heirs of grace!
How long desired a crown to win!
But still we have not reached the place
Where we can say we're free from sin.

2 We patient pray, and gladly sing,
"Thy perfect will, O Lord, be done!"
Our Captain will the victory bring
Which he for us has fairly won.

3 Our works as filthy rags appear,
Except as humbly wrought in thee:
Jesus, thy righteousness 'tis clear
Our righteousness at last must be.