1 Show pity, Lord! O Lord, forgive!
Let a repenting rebel live:
Are not Thy mercies large and free?
May not the contrite trust in Thee?
2 With shame my num'rous sins I trace
Against Thy law, against Thy grace;
And, though my prayer Thou shouldst not hear,
My doom is just and Thou art clear.
3 Yet save a penitent, O Lord!
Whose hope, still hovering round Thy word,
Seeks for some precious promise there,
Some sure support against despair.
4 My sins, though great, do not surpass
The riches of eternal grace;
Great God, Thy nature hath no bound,
So let Thy pard'ning love be found.
5 Oh, wash my soul from ev'ry stain,
Nor let the guilt I mourn remain;
Give me to hear Thy pard'ning voice,
And bid my bleeding heart rejoice.
6 Then shall Thy love inspire my tongue,
Salvation shall be all my song;
And ev'ry power shall join to bless
The Lord, my strength and righteousness.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Show pity, Lord! O Lord, forgive! |
Meter: | L. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1870 |
Topic: | Contrition; Conviction; Forgiveness: Of Sin(2 more...) |
Notes: | Author from index: Watts |