I am a stranger here below, And what I am, 'tis hard to know: I am so vile, so prone to sin, I fear that I'm not born again. When I exper'ence call to mind, My understanding is so blind, All feeling sense seems to be gone, Which makes me think that I am wrong. I find myself out of the way, My thoughts are often gone astray; Like one alone, I seem to be, Oh is there anyone like me.