1 Let sorrow, Lord, my bosom fill,
When impious men transgress thy will;
Teach me to mourn, when lips profane
Take thy tremendous name in vain.
2 With indignation may I treat
The works of malice and deceit;
And ever from their friendship flee,
Who dare to scorn thy laws and thee.
3 Doth secret mischief lurk within?
Do I indulge some unknown sin?
O turn my feet whene'er I stray,
And lead me in thy perfect way.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Let sorrow, Lord, my bosom fill |
Meter: | L. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1845 |
Topic: | The Christain: His Duty and Graces; Christian Graces |
Notes: | Public Domain. |