1 Thrice happy he, whose sins his God forgives;
His crimes in deep oblivion lost, who lives;
2 Whose slips, whose failings are not counted his;
Whose foul perversely does not act amiss!
3 For me, while I my secret faults conceal'd,
While not the errors of my life revealed,
A tabid weakness seiz'd my languid bones,
The tedious hours I spent in piteous moans;
4 Thy heavy hand I felt by night, by day,
And all my juices melted quick away.
5 Soon then to thee, O gracious God, I turn'd,
My many crimes, my various errors mourn'd;
Soon then to thee I all my sins confest,
And strait with pardon from thy love was blest.
6 For this the pious heart, the soul sincere,
In fitting time shall fly to thee in pray'r;
Nor, tho' the rising floods this earth o'erspread,
Shall they the threat'nings of the billows dread.
7 My sure defence, my certain refuge thou,
No griefs, no perils, can o'er-whelm me now;
My soul dost thou replenish with thy joy,
And all my woes, and all my terrors fly.
8 Nay more; thou kindly promisest thy aid;
"Mine hand (thou criest) shall point thee where to tread;
"Mine eye shall guide thee in the perfect way;
"And round thy feet I'll beam continued day.
9 "But thou the restiff mule resemble not,
"The fierce impetuous steed, devoid of thought,
"Which, if not govern'd by the bitted rein,
"Wou'd rove in savage liberty the plain."
10 His gracious goodness this; such mercy they
Have from their God, who his high will obey.
While dread tremendous punishments await
The wretch that in his crimes is obstinate.
11 Come then, ye righteous souls, indulge your joy,
In tuneful hymns your happy hours employ;
Be God the object of your love, your trust;
And in his saving pow'r rejoice, ye just.