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 Shouldst thou condemn my Soul to Hell,
And crush my Flesh to Dust,
Heav'n would approve thy Vengeance well,
And Earth must own it just.
3 I from the Stock of Adam came,
Unholy and unclean;
All my Original is Shame,
And all my Nature Sin.
4 Born in a World of Guilt, I drew
Contagion with my Breath;
And as my Days advanc'd, I grew
A juster Prey for Death.
5 Cleanse me, O Lord, and chear my Soul
With thy forgiving Love;
O make my broken Spirit whole,
And bid my Pains remove.
6 Let not thy Spirit quite depart,
Nor drive me from thy Face;
Create anew my vicious Heart,
And fill it with thy Grace.
7 Then will I make thy Mercy known
Before the Sons of Men;
Backsliders shall address thy Throne,
And turn to GOD again.
|First Line:||Lord, I would spread my sore Distress|
|Title:||Orignal and actual Sin confessed and pardoned|
|Topic:||Backsliding soul: restored; Blood of Christ cleansing from Sin; Christ: Our Hope(9 more...)|