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37 O LORD, my God, in mercy turn,
In mercy hear a sinner mourn:
In mercy hear me, lest I die.
Thorns planted round my bleeding brow;
And justice bids his thunder roll: 3 Yet, Jesus, to Thy cross I cling,
And crouch beneath Thy shelt'ring wing:
38 SHOW pity, Lord! O Lord, forgive;
Let a repenting rebel live!
May not a sinner trust in Thee ?
The power and glory of Thy grace :
And make my guilty conscience clean ! 3 My lips with shame my sins confess,
Against Thy law, against Thy grace:
I am condemn'd; but Thou art clear. 4 Yet save a trembling sinner, Lord,
Whose hope, still hov'ring round Thy word,
39 LAMB of God, who Thee receive,
Who in Thee desire to live,
As thou art, so let us be !
To Thy cross our spirits bind;
Cleanse our hearts from every sin. 3 Dust and ashes though we be,
Full of guilt and misery,
40 HEAR, gracious God, a sinner's cry,
For I have nowhere else to fly;
O God, be merciful to me.
I have no refuge, Lord, beside;
In Him be merciful to me.
Yet give me, Lord, the grace I seek,
Saviour, be merciful to me.
And there, when all my fears are past,
41 A So'er the past my mem'ry strays,
Oft heaves the secret sigh ;
Brought by conviction nigh.
2 The world, alas, too much belov'd,
My busy thoughts employ'd ;
Presents a fearful void.
3 Yet, holy Father, wild despair
Chase from my lab'ring breast;
grace can do the rest.
4 May life's brief remnant all be Thine;
And when thy firm decree
O speed my soul to Thee.
42 GREAT God, before Thy throne of grace
We wretched wand'rers mourn !
Hast Thou not said, “Return”?
2 O shine on each benighted heart,
With beams of mercy shine ;
A taste of joys divine !
43 FROM lowest depths of woe
To God I send my cry ;
And graciously reply.
For Thee, the living Lord;
Thy never failing word. 3 My longing eyes look out
For Thy enliv'ning ray,
To catch the dawn of day. 4 Let Israel trust in God,
No bounds his mercy knows;
Eternal succour flows.
44 MY soul lies cleaving to the dust :
Lord, give me life divine :
To speed me in Thy way,
Or turn my feet astray.
And Thou a faithful God?
To run the heavenly road?
4 Then shall I love Thy Gospel more,
And ne'er forget Thy word,
To draw me near the Lord. 45 WHEN all around is dark and drear,
No hand to help, no voice to cheer; When, of each human stay bereft,
Alone my trembling soul is left;
By suff'rings taught to sympathize.
The stern rebuke of conscience quell,
My pardon speak, and say, Rejoice.
Serenely beams the Gospel morn,
Purge my sins of deepest dye: