Wrapped up, O Lord, in man's degeneration, The glories of Thy truth, Thy joys eternal, Reflect upon my soul dark desolation, And ugly prospects o'er the sprites infernal. Lord, I have sinned, and mine iniquity Deserves this hell; yet, Lord, deliver me. Thy power and mercy never comprehended Rest lively imaged in my conscience wounded; Mercy to grace, and power to fear extended, Both infinite, and I in both confounded. Lord, I have sinned, and mine iniquity Deserves this hell; yet, Lord, deliver me. If from this depth of sin, this hellish grave, And fatal absence from my Saviour's glory I could implore His mercy, who can save, And for my sins, not pains of sin, be sorry: Lord, from this horror of iniquity And hellish grave, Thou wouldst deliver me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEATH IN THE KITCHEN by THOMAS HOOD NIGHT AND DAY by SIDNEY LANIER THE QUANGLE WANGLE'S HAT by EDWARD LEAR THE WHITE CITY by CLAUDE MCKAY IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 47 by ALFRED TENNYSON TO A WITHERED ROSE by JOHN KENDRICK BANGS |