Lord in thine anger do not reprehend me, Nor in thy hot displeasure me correct; Pity me Lord for I am much deject, Am very weak and faint; heal and amend me, For all my bones, that even with anguish ache, Are troubled, yea my soul is troubled sore And thou O Lord how long? turn Lord, restore My soul, O save me for thy goodness' sake, For in death no remembrance is of thee; Who in the grave can celebrate thy praise? Wearied I am with sighing out my days, Nightly my couch I make a kind of sea; My bed I water with my tears; mine eye Through grief consumes, is waxen old and dark I' th' midst of all mine enemies that mark. Depart all ye that work iniquity. Depart from me, for the voice of my weeping The Lord hath heard, the Lord hath heard my prayer; My supplication with acceptance fair The Lord will own, and have me in his keeping. Mine enemies shall all be blank and dashed With much confusion; then grow red with shame; They shall return in haste the way they came And in a moment shall be quite abashed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...POETA FIT, NON NASCITUR by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON GULF-WEED by CORNELIUS GEORGE FENNER HAWTHORNE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE SIFTING OF PETER by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW A MINUET ON REACHING THE AGE OF FIFTY by GEORGE SANTAYANA THE PUMPKIN by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER PENISKEE by THOMAS GOLD APPLETON TO THEOPHILE GAUTIER by THEODORE FAULLAIN DE BANVILLE TO ONE WHO HAD LEFT HER CONVENT TO MARRY by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |