1 Alas, my God! my sins are great,
My conscience doth upbraid me;
And now I find that at my strait
No man hath power to aid me.
2 And fled I hence, in my despair,
In some lone spot to hide me,
My griefs would still be with me there,
And peace still be denied me.
3 Lord, Thee I seek;--I merit naught,
Yet pity and restore me;
Be not Thy wrath, just God, my lot,
Thy Son hath suffered for me.
4 If pain and woe must follow sin,
Then be my path still rougher,
Here spare me not; if heaven I win,
On earth I gladly suffer.
5 But curb my heart, forgive my guilt,
Make Thou my patience firmer,
For they must miss the good Thou wilt
Who at Thy chastenings murmur.
6 Then deal with me as seems Thee best,
Thy grace will help me bear it,
If but at last I see Thy rest,
And with my Savior share it.
Text Information | |
---|---|
First Line: | Alas, my God! my sins are great |
Meter: | 8, 7, 8, 7 |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1918 |
Topic: | Catechism |