1 Lord, I would spread my sore distress
And guilt before Thine eyes;
Against Thy laws, against Thy grace,
How high my crimes arise!
2 I from the stock of Adam came,
Unholy and unclean;
All my original is shame,
And all my nature sin.
3 Cleanse me, O Lord, and cheer my soul
With Thy forgiving love;
And make my broken spirit whole,
And bid my pains remove.
4 Let not Thy spirit e'er depart,
Nor drive me from Thy face;
Create anew my sinful heart,
And fill it with Thy grace.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Lord, I would spread my sore distress |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1870 |
Topic: | Depravity; Heart: depraved; Law: broken(5 more...) |
Notes: | Author from index: Watts |