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L. M.

A penitent pleading for pardon.


Show pity, Lord, O Lord, forgive,

Let a repenting rebel live:

Are not thy mercies large and free?

May not a sinner trust in thee?

My crimes are great, but not surpass

The power and glory of thy grace:

Great God, thy nature hath no bound,

So let thy pard'ning love be found.

O wash my soul from every sin,

And make my guilty conscience clean;

Here on my heart the burden lies,

And past offences pain my eyes.

My lips with shame my sins confess

Against thy law, against thy grace:

Lord, should thy judgment grow severe,

I am condemned, but thou art clear.

Should sudden vengeance seize my breath,

I must pronounce thee just in death;

And if my soul were sent to hell,

Thy righteous law approves it well.

Yet save a trembling sinner, Lord,

Whose hope, still hov'ring round thy word,

Would light on some sweet promise there,

Some sure support against despair.

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