Psalm 51

Words: Isaac Watts

Long Metre Tunes

Part 1. 
A penitent pleading for pardon.

   1  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?

   2  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.

   3  O wash my soul from ev'ry sin,
      And make my guilty conscience clean;
      Here on my heart the burden lies,
      And past offences pain my eyes.

   4  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.

   5  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.

   6  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.

Original and actual sin confessed.

   1  Lord, I am vile, conceived in sin;
      And born unholy and unclean;
      Sprung from the man whose guilty fall
      Corrupts the race, and taints us all.

   2  Soon as we draw our infant breath,
      The seeds of sin grow up for death;
      Thy law demands a perfect heart,
      But we're defiled in ev'ry part.

   3  Great God, create my heart anew,
      And form my spirit pure and true;
      O make me wise betimes to spy
      My danger and my remedy.

   4  Behold, I fail before thy face;
      My only refuge is thy grace:
      No outward forms can make me clean;
      The leprosy lies deep within.

   5  No bleeding bird, nor bleeding beast,
      Nor hyssop branch, nor sprinkling priest,
      Nor running brook, nor flood, nor sea,
      Can wash the dismal stain away.

   6  Jesus, my God, thy blood alone
      Hath power sufficient to atone;
      Thy blood can make me white as snow;
      No Jewish types could cleanse me so.

   7  While guilt disturbs and breaks my peace,
      Nor flesh nor soul hath rest or ease;
      Lord, let me hear thy pard'ning voice,
      And make my broken bones rejoice..

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Page last modified on: 07/29/2004