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92

SONG OF REPENTANCE FROM PSALM CXLIII.

Herr, hoere, was mein Mund

6,6,6,6,6

93949596

Lord, lend a gracious ear

To my desire sincere,

From heart all free from guile,

And glad me with Thy smile,

Accept my petition.

Not wealth is my request,

That on the earth doth rest,

That shall at length decay,

With earth must pass away,

And can never save us.

The treasure I desire

Is Thine own grace, O Sire!

The grace that Thy dear Son,

Of saving grace the throne,

By His death hath purchas’d.

Thou pure and righteous art,

Unholy is my heart,

All dead in sin I live,

But sin dost Thou forgive,

Who art God most faithful.

And be Thy faithfulness

My trust and happiness;

Turn from my sin Thy face

With overflowing grace

My guiltiness cover.

Consider what we be—

A moment, where are we?

As brittle as frail glass,

As fading as the grass,

By a breath we’re swept off.

If Thou wilt only view

The evil that we do,

So great our load of sin,

None e’er could stand within

Heaven’s gate most holy.

How Jesus Christ for me

Himself hath giv’n, see!

What I to do have fail’d

His power hath avail’d,

His doing and dying.

Thou lov’st remorse and smart,

Behold, here is a heart

That knows and feels its sin,

And burns like fire within

With grief, pain, and sorrow.

I’m like a thirsty land

From which Thy gracious hand

Hath long withheld the rain,

Until we seek in vain

For strength, fruit, or moisture.

Like hart upon the heath,

That cries with gasping breath

For water fresh and clear,

I call into Thine ear,

Fount of living water!

My spirit, Lord, revive,

Rich consolation give;

Speak, that my soul may rest

Upon the friendly breast

Of Thy love eternal.

Give me a trustful mood,

That when the mighty flood

Of sin o’erwhelmeth me,

My grief absorb’d may be

In Thy mercy’s ocean.

Drive off the wicked foe

That seeks my overthrow;

Thou art my Shepherd, I

Will be eternally

A sheep of Thy pasture.

As long as I shall dwell

On earth, to do Thy will

I give myself to Thee,

And evermore shall be

Thine own faithful servant.

Though feeble, I shall be

Still grateful unto Thee,

For in Thy might alone,

That worketh in Thine own,

All my power standeth.

Then send Thy Spirit down,

Who points out to Thine own

The way that pleaseth Thee;

They never mov’d shall be,

Who keep Him indwelling.

Thou shalt go on before,

Shalt open me the door

That leads to wisdom’s way,

I’ll follow every day,

Copying Thee ever.

And when at length ’tis giv’n

To tread the courts of heav’n,

With angel hosts to Thee

I’ll sing eternally

To Thy praise and glory.

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