1 Oh, if my soul were form'd for wo,
How would I vent my sighs!
Repentance should like rivers flow
From both my streaming eyes.
2 'Twas for my sins my dearest Lord
Hung on the cursed tree,
And groan'd away a dying life
For thee, my soul, for thee.
3 O, how I hate those lusts of mine
That crucified my God,
Those sins that pierc'd and nail'd his flesh
Fast to the fatal wood.
4 Yes, my Redeemer, they shall die,
My heart has so decreed,
Nor will I spare the guilty things
That made my Saviour bleed.
5 Whilst with a melting broken heart
My murder'd Lord I view,
I'll raise revenge against my sins,
And slay the murderers too.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Oh, if my soul was form'd for wo |
Meter: | C. M. |
Publication Date: | 1828 |
Topic: | Penitence of the awakened sinner: Penitence; Repentance at the Cross |