O Lord, whose grace no limits comprehend Sweet Lord, whose mercys stand from measure free To me that Grace to me that mercy send And wipe, O Lord, my sin from sinfull mee O cleanse, o wash my foul iniquity Clense still my spotts still wash away my stainings Till stains and spotts leave in me no remaynings. For I alas, acknowledging do know My Filthy fault, my faulty filthyness To my soules ey uncessantly doth shew Which don to Thee, to Thee I do confess Just judg, true Witness; that for righteousness Thy dome may passe against my guilt awarded Thy evidence for truth may be reguarded. My Mother lo, where I began to be Conceiving me with me did sin conceive And as with living heat shee cherisht me Corruption did like cherishing receive But Lo thy Love to purest good doth cleave And inward truth, which hardly else discerned My truant soul in Thy hidd schole hath learned Then, as Thy self to leapers hast assignd With hyssop Lord, thy Hyssop purg me so And that shall cleanse the Leapry of my mind Make over me Thy mercys streams to flow So shall my whitness scorn the whitest snow To eare and heart send sounds and thoughts of gladness That bruised bones may dance away their sadness. Thy ill-pleasd ey from my misdeeds avert Cancell the registers my Sins contain Create in me a pure clean spotless heart Inspire a spirit where Love of right may reign Ah cast me not from Thee, take not again Thy breathing grace; again thy comfort send me And let the guard of Thy free sprite attend me. So I to them a guiding hand will be Whose faulty feet have wandred from Thy way And turnd from sin, will make return to thee Whom turnd from thee, sin erst had led astray O God, God of my health O do away My bloody crime, so shall my tongue be raised To prayse Thy truth enough can not be praysed. Unlock my lipps, shutt up with sinfull shame Then shall my mouth O Lord Thy honour sing For bleeding fewell of Thy Altars flame To gain thy grace what boots it me to bring Burnt offrings are to Thee no pleasant thing The sacrifice that God will hold respected Is the heart broken soul, the sprite dejected. Lastly, O Lord, howso I stand or fall Leave not Thy loved Sion to embrace But with Thy favour build up Salems wall And still in peace maintain that peacefull place Then shalt Thou turn a well accepting face To Sacred Fires with offerd gifts perfumed Till ev'n whole Calves on Altars be consumed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE YOUNG GRAY HEAD by CAROLINE ANNE BOWLES SOUTHEY IN MEMORY OF WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE ARMY CORRESPONDENT'S LAST RIDE; FIVE FORKS, APRIL 1, 1865 by GEORGE ALFRED TOWNSEND PHILLIS INAMOROTA by LANCELOT ANDREWES INTEGRITY by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |