Psalm 51 part 1
A penitent pleading for pardon.
Show pity, Lord, O Lord, forgive,
Let a repenting rebel live:
Are not thy mercies large and free?
May not a sinner trust in thee?
My crimes are great, but not surpass
The power and glory of thy grace:
Great God, thy nature hath no bound,
So let thy pard'ning love be found.
O wash my soul from every sin,
And make my guilty conscience clean;
Here on my heart the burden lies,
And past offences pain my eyes.
My lips with shame my sins confess
Against thy law, against thy grace:
Lord, should thy judgment grow severe,
I am condemned, but thou art clear.
Should sudden vengeance seize my breath,
I must pronounce thee just in death;
And if my soul were sent to hell,
Thy righteous law approves it well.
Yet save a trembling sinner, Lord,
Whose hope, still hov'ring round thy word,
Would light on some sweet promise there,
Some sure support against despair.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Related quotes
Psalm 25 part 1
v.1-11
S. M.
Waiting for pardon and direction.
I Lift my soul to God,
My trust is in his name:
Let not my foes that seek my blood
Still triumph in my shame.
Sin, and the powers of hell,
Persuade me to despair:
Lord, make me know thy cov'nant well,
That I may 'scape the snare.
From the first dawning light
Till the dark ev'ning rise,
For thy salvation, Lord, I wait
With ever-longing eyes.
Remember all thy grace,
And lead me in thy truth;
Forgive the sins of riper days,
And follies of my youth.
The Lord is just and kind,
The meek shall learn his ways,
And every humble sinner find
The methods of his grace.
For his own goodness' sake
He saves my soul from shame:
He pardons, though my guilt be great,
Through my Redeemer's name.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Olney Hymn 18: Lovest Thou Me?
Hark my soul! it is the Lord;
'Tis Thy Saviour, hear His word;
Jesus speaks and speaks to thee,
'Say poor sinner, lovst thou me?
'I deliver'd thee when bound,
And when bleeding, heal'd thy wound;
Sought thee wandering, set thee right,
Turn'd thy darkness into light.
'Can a woman's tender care
Cease towards the child she bare?
Yes, she may forgetful be,
Yet will I remember thee.
'Mine is an unchanging love,
Higher than the heights above,
Deeper than the depths beneath,
Free and faithful, strong as death.
'Thou shalt see my glory soon,
When the work of grace is done;
Partner of my throne shalt be;
Say, poor sinner, lovst thou me?'
Lord it is my chief complaint,
That my love is weak and faint;
Yet I love Thee and adore, -
Oh! for grace to love Thee more!
poem by William Cowper
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Lovest Thou Me?
(John, xxi.16)
Hark my soul! it is the Lord;
'Tis Thy Saviour, hear His word;
Jesus speaks and speaks to thee,
"Say poor sinner, lovst thou me?
"I deliver'd thee when bound,
And when bleeding, heal'd thy wound;
Sought thee wandering, set thee right,
Turn'd thy darkness into light.
"Can a woman's tender care
Cease towards the child she bare?
Yes, she may forgetful be,
Yet will I remember thee.
"Mine is an unchanging love,
Higher than the heights above,
Deeper than the depths beneath,
Free and faithful, strong as death.
"Thou shalt see my glory soon,
When the work of grace is done;
Partner of my throne shalt be;
Say, poor sinner, lovst thou me?"
Lord it is my chief complaint,
That my love is weak and faint;
Yet I love Thee and adore, --
Oh! for grace to love Thee more!
poem by William Cowper
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Psalm 86
Thy gracious ear, O Lord, encline,
O hear me I thee pray,
For I am poor, and almost pine
With need, and sad decay.
Preserve my soul, for *I have trod Heb. I am good, loving,
Thy waies, and love the just, a doer of good and
Save thou thy servant O my God holy things
Who still in thee doth trust.
Pity me Lord for daily thee
I call; 4 O make rejoyce
Thy Servants Soul; for Lord to thee
I lift my soul and voice,
For thou art good, thou Lord art prone
To pardon, thou to all
Art full of mercy, thou alone
To them that on thee call.
Unto my supplication Lord
Give ear, and to the crie
Of my incessant praiers afford
Thy hearing graciously.
I in the day of my distress
Will call on thee for aid;
For thou wilt grant me free access
And answer, what I pray'd.
Like thee among the gods is none
O Lord, nor any works
Of all that other Gods have done
Like to thy glorious works.
The Nations all whom thou hast made
Shall come, and all shall frame
To bow them low before thee Lord,
And glorifie thy name.
For great thou art, and wonders great
By thy strong hand are done,
Thou in thy everlasting Seat
Remainest God alone.
Teach me O Lord thy way most right,
I in thy truth will hide,
To fear thy name my heart unite
So shall it never slide.
Thee will I praise O Lord my God
Thee honour, and adore
With my whole heart, and blaze abroad
Thy name for ever more.
For great thy mercy is toward me,
And thou hast free'd my Soul
Eev'n from the lowest Hell set free
From deepest darkness foul.
O God the proud against me rise
And violent men are met
To seek my life, and in their eyes
No fear of thee have set.
But thou Lord art the God most mild
Readiest thy grace to shew,
Slow to be angry, and art stil'd
Most mercifull, most true.
O turn to me thy face at length,
And me have mercy on,
Unto thy servant give thy strength,
And save thy hand-maids Son.
Some sign of good to me afford,
And let my foes then see
And be asham'd, because thou Lord
Do'st help and comfort me.
poem by John Milton
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Psalm 51 part 3
The backslider restored.
O Thou that hear'st when sinners cry,
Though all my crimes before thee lie,
Behold them not with angry look,
But blot their mem'ry from thy book.
Create my nature pure within,
And form my soul averse to sin:
Let thy good Spirit ne'er depart,
Nor hide thy presence from my heart.
I cannot live without thy light
Cast out and banished from thy sight:
Thine holy joys, my God, restore,
And guard me that I fall no more.
Though I have grieved thy Spirit, Lord,
His help and comfort still afford;
And let a wretch come near thy throne,
To plead the merits of thy Son.
A broken heart, my God, my King,
Is all the sacrifice I bring;
The God of grace will ne'er despise
A broken heart for sacrifice.
My soul lies humbled in the dust,
And owns thy dreadful sentence just:
Look down, O Lord, with pitying eye,
And save the soul condemned to die.
Then will I teach the world thy ways;
Sinners shall learn thy sovereign grace;
I'll lead them to my Savior's blood,
And they shall praise a pard'ning God.
O may thy love inspire my tongue!
Salvation shall be all my song;
And all my powers shall join to bless
The Lord, my strength and righteousness.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Another of the same, paraphrased for an Antheme
Out of the horrour of the lowest Deep,
Where cares & endlesse fears their station keep,
To thee (O Lord) I send my woful cry:
O heare the accents of my misery.
If Thy enquiry (Lord) should be severe,
To mark all sins which have been acted here,
Who may abide? or, when they fisted are,
Stand un-condemned at Thy Judgments bar?
But there is mercy (O my God) with Thee,
That Thou by it may'st lou'd, and feared be.
My Soule waites for the Lord, in Him I trust,
Whose word is faithful, & whose promise just.
On him my longing thoughts are fixt, as they,
Who wait the cōforts of the rising day:
Yea more then those that watch the morning light
Tir'd with the sorrowes of a rest-less night.
O Israel, trust in that Gratious Lord,
Who plentifull remission doth afford;
And will His people, who past pardon seeme,
By mercyes greater then their sins redeeme.
poem by Henry King
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Desiring to Be Given up to God
That my heart was right with thee,
And lov'd thee with a perfect love!
O that my Lord would dwell in me,
And never from his seat remove!
Jesus, remove th' impending load,
And set my soul on fire for God!
Thou seest I dwell in awful night
Until thou in my heart appear;
Kindle the flame, O Lord, and light
Thine everlasting candle there:
Thy presence puts the shadows by;
If thou art gone, how dark am I!
Ah! Lord, how should thy servant see,
Unless thou give me seeing eyes?
Well may I fall, if out of thee;
If out of thee, how should I rise?
I wander, Lord, without thy aid,
And lose my way in midnight's shade.
Thy bright, unerring light afford,
A light that gives the sinner hope;
And from the house of bondage, Lord,
O bring the weary captive up,
Thine hand alone can set me free
And reach my pardon out to me.
O let my prayer acceptance find,
And bring the mighty blessing down;
With eye-salve, Lord, anoint the blind,
And seal me thine adopted son:
A fallen, helpless creature take,
And heir of thy salvation make.
poem by Augustus Montague Toplady
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Lord, with Glowing Heart I'd Praise Thee
Lord, with glowing heart I'd praise Thee,
For the bliss Thy love bestows,
For the pardoning grace that saves me,
And the peace that from it flows:
Help, O God, my weak endeavor;
This dull soul to rapture raise:
Thou must light the flame, or never
Can my love be warmed to praise.
Praise, my soul, the God that sought thee,
Wretched wanderer, far astray;
Found thee lost, and kindly brought thee
From the paths of death away;
Praise, with love's devoutest feeling,
Him Who saw thy guilt-born fear,
And the light of hope revealing,
Bade the blood-stained cross appear.
Praise thy Savior God that drew thee
To that cross, new life to give,
Held a blood sealed pardon to thee,
Bade thee look to Him and live.
Praise the grace whose threats alarmed thee,
Roused thee from thy fatal ease;
Praise the grace whose promise warmed thee,
Praise the grace that whispered peace.
Lord, this bosom's ardent feeling
Vainly would my lips express.
Low before Thy footstool kneeling,
Deign Thy suppliant's prayer to bless:
Let Thy grace, my soul's chief treasure,
Love's pure flame within me raise;
And, since words can never measure,
Let my life show forth Thy praise.
poem by Francis Scott Key
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51 Psalm
Look mercyfully down O Lord
& wash us from our sinn
Cleanse us from wicked deeds without
from wicked thoughts within
Lord I Confess my many sinns
that I against thee doe
Each minute they're before my face
& wound my soul anew
So Great my god my ills have been
Gainst thee & onely thee
Thy Justice tho' I were Condemnd
would good & righteous bee
For att my birth I wickedness
Did with my breath suck in
But thou shalt teach me in thy ways
& keep me pure from sinn
Thoult me with hyssopp purge who am
all over soil's & stain's
Thou with thy sanctifiyng grace
shalt wash & make me clean
Thoult bless my days with peace no sound
But Joy shall reach mine ear
That where thy Justice wounded Lord
There Gladness may appear
Blott from thy thoughts past faults & from
The present turn thy face
O make my spirit right & good
Confirm my heart with grace
thy Presence & thy mercy lett
Me ever Ld possess
Me with the comfort of thy help
& with thy love still bless
Then shall the wicked know thy pow'r
& turn ym from theyr wayes
Deliver me from blood my god
& I will sing thy praise.
Unseal my lips & to ye Bad
I will thy mercy shew
For since thou lovest not sacrifice
Tis all that I can doo
A heart that is with sorrow pierct
My God thou wilt receive
this is ye sweetest offering
that we to thee can give
On Sion Graciously look down
Preserve us still we pray
& hearts upon thine altars Lord
Instead of beasts we'el Lay.
poem by Thomas Parnell
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Hymn 34 part 1
The gospel the power of God to salvation.
Rom. 1:16.
What shall the dying sinner do
That seeks relief for all his woe?
Where shall the guilty conscience find
Ease for the torment of the mind?
How shall we get our crimes forgiv'n?
Or form our natures fit for heav'n?
Can souls all o'er defiled with sin
Make their own powers and passions clean?
In vain we search, in vain we try,
Till Jesus brings his gospel nigh;
'Tis there such power and glory dwell
As save rebellious souls from hell.
This is the pillar of our hope
That bears our fainting spirits up:
We read the grace, we trust the word,
And find salvation in the Lord.
Let men or angels dig the mines,
Where nature's golden treasure shines;
Brought near the doctrine of the cross,
All nature's gold appears but dross.
Should vile blasphemers with disdain
Pronounce the truths of Jesus vain,
I'll meet the scandal and the shame,
And sing and triumph in his name.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 119 part 13
Holy fear, and tenderness of conscience.
ver. 10
With my whole heart I've sought thy face:
O let me never stray
From thy commands, O God of grace,
Nor tread the sinner's way.
ver. 11
Thy word I've hid within my heart
To keep my conscience clean,
And be an everlasting guard
From every rising sin.
ver. 63,53,158
I'm a companion of the saints
Who fear and love the Lord;
My sorrows rise, my nature faints,
When men transgress thy word.
ver. 161,163
While sinners do thy gospel wrong
My spirit stands in awe;
My soul abhors a lying tongue,
But loves thy righteous law.
ver. 161,120
My heart with sacred rev'rence hears
The threat'nings of thy word;
My flesh with holy trembling fears
The judgments of the Lord.
ver. 166,174
My God, I long, I hope, I wait,
For thy salvation still;
While thy whole law is my delight,
And I obey thy will.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 119 part 17
Courage and perseverance under persecution.
ver. 143, 28
When pain and anguish seize me, Lord,
All my support is from thy word:
My soul dissolves for heaviness;
Uphold me with thy strength'ning grace.
ver. 51,69,110
The proud have framed their scoffs and lies,
They watch my feet with envious eyes,
And tempt my soul to snares and sin,
Yet thy commands I ne'er decline.
ver. 161,78
They hate me, Lord, without a cause,
They hate to see me love thy laws;
But I will trust and fear thy name,
Till pride and malice die with shame.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Hymn XXIII: Extended on a Cursed Tree
Extended on a cursed tree,
Besmeared with dust, and sweat, and blood,
See there, the king of glory see!
Sinks and expires the Son of God.
Who, who, my Saviour, this hath done?
Who could thy sacred body wound?
No guilt thy spotless heart hath known,
No guile hath in thy lips been found.
I, I alone, have done the deed!
'Tis I thy sacred flesh have torn;
My sins have caused thee, Lord, to bleed,
Pointed the nail, and fixed the thorn.
The burden, for me to sustain
Too great, on thee, my Lord, was laid;
To heal me, thou hast borne my pain;
To bless me, thou a curse wast made.
In the devouring lion's teeth,
Torn, and forsook of all, I lay;
Thou sprang'st into the jaws of death,
From death to save the helpless prey.
Saviour how shall I proclaim?
How pay the mighty debt I owe?
Let all I have, and all I am,
Ceaseless to all thy glory show.
Too much to thee I cannot give;
Too much I cannot do for thee;
Let all thy love, and all thy grief,
Graven on my heart for ever be!
The meek, the still, the lowly mind,
O may I learn from thee, my God,
And love, with softest pity joined,
For those that trample on thy blood!
Still let thy tears, thy groans, thy sighs,
O'erflow my eyes, and heave my breast,
Till loose from flesh and earth I rise,
And ever in thy bosom rest.
poem by John Wesley
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Hymn XXIII: Extended on a Cursed Tree
Extended on a cursed tree,
Besmeared with dust, and sweat, and blood,
See there, the king of glory see!
Sinks and expires the Son of God.
Who, who, my Saviour, this hath done?
Who could thy sacred body wound?
No guilt thy spotless heart hath known,
No guile hath in thy lips been found.
I, I alone, have done the deed!
'Tis I thy sacred flesh have torn;
My sins have caused thee, Lord, to bleed,
Pointed the nail, and fixed the thorn.
The burden, for me to sustain
Too great, on thee, my Lord, was laid;
To heal me, thou hast borne my pain;
To bless me, thou a curse wast made.
In the devouring lion's teeth,
Torn, and forsook of all, I lay;
Thou sprang'st into the jaws of death,
From death to save the helpless prey.
Saviour how shall I proclaim?
How pay the mighty debt I owe?
Let all I have, and all I am,
Ceaseless to all thy glory show.
Too much to thee I cannot give;
Too much I cannot do for thee;
Let all thy love, and all thy grief,
Graven on my heart for ever be!
The meek, the still, the lowly mind,
O may I learn from thee, my God,
And love, with softest pity joined,
For those that trample on thy blood!
Still let thy tears, thy groans, thy sighs,
O'erflow my eyes, and heave my breast,
Till loose from flesh and earth I rise,
And ever in thy bosom rest.
poem by Charles Wesley
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The Rebel's Surrender To Grace (Lord, What Wilt Thou Have Me to Do?)
Lord, thou hast won, at length I yield,
My heart, by mighty grace compelled,
Surrenders all to thee;
Against thy terrors long I strove,
But who can stand against thy love?
Love conquers even me.
All that a wretch could do, I tried,
Thy patience scorned, thy pow'r defied,
And trampled on thy laws;
Scarcely thy martyrs at the stake,
Could stand more steadfast for thy sake,
Than I in Satan's cause.
But since thou hast thy love revealed,
And shown my soul a pardon sealed,
I can resist no more:
Couldst thou for such a sinner bleed?
Canst thou for such a rebel plead?
I wonder and adore!
If thou hadst bid thy thunders roll,
And lightnings flash to blast my soul,
I still had stubborn been:
But mercy has my heart subdued,
A bleeding Saviour I have viewed,
And now, I hate my sin.
Now, Lord, I would be thine alone,
Come take possession of thine own,
For thou hast set me free
Released from Satan's hard commands
See all my powers waiting stand,
To be employed by thee.
My will conformed to thine would move,
On thee my hope, desire, and love,
In fixed attention join;
My hands, my eyes, my ears, my tongue,
Have Satan's servants been too long,
But now they shall be thine.
And can I be the very same,
Who lately durst blaspheme thy name;
And on thy gospel tread?
Surely each one, who hears my case,
Will praise thee, and confess thy grace
Invincible indeed!
poem by John Newton
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In My Solitary Hours in My Dear Husband his Absence
O Lord, Thou hear'st my daily moan
And see'st my dropping tears.
My troubles all are Thee before,
My longings and my fears.
Thou hitherto hast been my God;
Thy help my soul hath found.
Though loss and sickness me assailed,
Through Thee I've kept my ground.
And Thy abode Thou'st made with me;
With Thee my soul can talk;
In secret places Thee I find
Where I do kneel or walk.
Though husband dear be from me gone,
Whom I do love so well,
I have a more beloved one
Whose comforts far excel.
O stay my heart on Thee. my God,
Uphold my fainting soul.
And when I know not what to do,
I'll on Thy mercies roll.
My weakness. Thou dost know full well
Of body and of mind;
I in this world no comfort have,
But what from Thee I find.
Though children Thou has given me,
And friends I have also,
Yet if I see Thee not through them
They are no joy, but woe.
O shine upon me, blessed Lord,
Ev'n for my Saviour's sake;
In Thee alone is more than all,
And there content I'll take.
O hear me, Lord, in this request
As Thou before hast done,
Bring back my husband, I beseech,
As Thou didst once my son.
So shall I celebrate Thy praise
Ev'n while my days shall last
And talk to my beloved one
Of all Thy goodness past.
So both of us Thy kindness, Lord,
With praises shall recount
And serve Thee better than before
Whose blessings thus surmount.
But give me, Lord, a better heart,
Then better shall I be,
To pay the vows which I do owe
Forever unto Thee.
Unless Thou help, what can I do
But still my frailty show?
If Thou assist me, Lord,
I shall Return Thee what I owe.
poem by Anne Bradstreet
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Psalm 25 part 3
v.15-22
S. M.
Distress of soul; or, Backsliding and desertion.
Mine eyes and my desire
Are ever to the Lord;
I love to plead his promises,
And rest upon his word.
Turn, turn thee to my soul,
Bring thy salvation near;
When will thy hand release my feet
Out of the deadly snare?
When shall the sovereign grace
Of my forgiving God
Restore me from those dangerous ways
My wand'ring feet have trod?
The tumult of my thoughts
Doth but enlarge my woe;
My spirit languishes, my heart
Is desolate and low.
With ev'ry morning light
My sorrow new begins;
Look on my anguish and my pain,
And pardon all my sins.
PAUSE.
Behold the hosts of hell,
How cruel is their hate!
Against my life they rise, and join
Their fury with deceit.
O keep my soul from death,
Nor put my hope to shame,
For I have placed my only trust
In my Redeemer's name.
With humble faith I wait
To see thy face again:
Of Isr'el it shall ne'er be said,
He sought the Lord in vain.
poem by Isaac Watts
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My Name Is Jacob
Nay, I cannot let Thee go,
Till a blessing thou bestow;
Do not turn away thy face,
Mine's an urgent pressing case.
Dost thou ask me, who I am?
Ah, my Lord, thou know'st my name!
Yet the question gives a plea,
To support my suit with thee.
Thou didst once a wretch behold,
In rebellion blindly bold;
Scorn thy grace, thy pow'r defy,
That poor rebel, Lord, was I.
Once a sinner near despair,
Sought thy mercy-seat by prayer;
Mercy heard and set him free,
Lord, that mercy came to me,
Many years have passed since then,
Many changes I have seen;
Yet have been upheld till now,
Who could hold me up but thou?
Thou hast helped in every need,
This emboldens me to plead;
After so much mercy past,
Canst thou let me sink at last?
No -- I must maintain my hold,
'Tis thy goodness makes me bold;
I can no denial take,
When I plead for Jesu's sake.
poem by John Newton
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The Legion Dispossessed
Legion was my name by nature,
Satan raged within my breast;
Never misery was greater,
Never sinner more possessed:
Mischievous to all around me,
To myself the greatest foe;
Thus I was, when Jesus found me,
Filled with madness, sin and woe.
Yet in this forlorn condition,
When he came to see me free;
I replied, to my Physician,
What have I to do with thee?
But he would not be prevented,
Rescued me against my will;
Had he stayed till I consented,
I had been a captive still.
Satan, though thou fain wouldst have it,
Know this soul is none of thine;
I have shed my blood to save it,
Now I challenge it for mine,
Though it long has thee resembled,
Henceforth it shall me obey;
Thus he spoke while Satan trembled,
Gnashed his teeth and fled away.
Thus my frantic soul he healed,
Bid my sins and sorrows cease;
Take, said he, my pardon sealed,
I have saved thee, go in peace:
Rather take me, Lord, to heaven,
Now thy love and grace I know;
Since thou hast my sins forgiven,
Why should I remain below?
Love, he said, will sweeten labors,
Thou hast something yet to do;
Go and tell your friends and neighbors,
What my love has done for you:
Live to manifest my glory,
Wait for heav'n a little space;
Sinners, when they hear thy story,
Will repent and seek my face.
poem by John Newton
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Psalm 18 part 1
v.1-6,15-18
L. M.
Deliverance from despair.
Thee will I love, O Lord, my strength,
My rock, my tower, my high defence:
Thy mighty arm shall be my trust,
For I have found salvation thence.
Death, and the terrors of the grave,
Stood round me with their dismal shade;
While floods of high temptations rose,
And made my sinking soul afraid.
I saw the op'ning gates of hell,
With endless pains and sorrows there,
Which none but they that feel can tell;
While I was hurried to despair.
In my distress I called my God,
When I could scarce believe him mine:
He bowed his ear to my complaint,
Then did his grace appear divine.
With speed he flew to my relief,
As on a cherub's wing he rode;
Awful and bright as lightning shone
The face of my deliverer, God.
Temptations fled at his rebuke,
The blast of his almighty breath;
He sent salvation from on high,
And drew me from the deeps of death.
Great were my fears, my foes were great,
Much was their strength, and more their rage;
But Christ, my Lord, is conqueror still,
In all the wars that devils wage.
My song for ever shall record
That terrible, that joyful hour;
And give the glory to the Lord,
Due to his mercy and his power
poem by Isaac Watts
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