Wrapped up, O Lord, in man's degeneration, The glories of Thy truth, Thy joys eternal, Reflect upon my soul dark desolation, And ugly prospects o'er the sprites infernal. Lord, I have sinned, and mine iniquity Deserves this hell; yet, Lord, deliver me. Thy power and mercy never comprehended Rest lively imaged in my conscience wounded; Mercy to grace, and power to fear extended, Both infinite, and I in both confounded. Lord, I have sinned, and mine iniquity Deserves this hell; yet, Lord, deliver me. If from this depth of sin, this hellish grave, And fatal absence from my Saviour's glory I could implore His mercy, who can save, And for my sins, not pains of sin, be sorry: Lord, from this horror of iniquity And hellish grave, Thou wouldst deliver me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE POWER OF ART by GEORGE SANTAYANA THE CHAM TOWERS AT DA NANG by KAREN SWENSON PLACES: 4. EVENING (NAHANT) by SARA TEASDALE THE VICTOR AT ANTIETAM [SEPTEMBER 17, 1862] by HERMAN MELVILLE |