1 Prostrate, dear Jesus, at thy feet,
A guilty rebel lies;
And upwards, to thy mercy-seat,
Presumes to lift his eyes.
2 Let not thy justice frown me hence;
Oh, stay the vengeful storm;
Forbid it, that Omnipotence
Should crush a feeble worm.
3 If tears of sorrow could suffice
To pay the debt I owe,
Tears should, from both my weeping eyes,
In ceaseless currents flow.
4 But no such sacrifice I plead
To expiate my guilt;
No tears, but those which thou hast shed,--
No blood, but thou hast spilt.
5 Think of thy sorrows, dearest Lord!
And all my sins forgive,
Then justice will approve the word,
That bids the sinner lives.
Source: Laudes Domini: a selection of spiritual songs ancient & modern (Abr. ed.) #309