O Thou Great Power, in whom I move, For whom I live, to whom I die, Behold me through Thy beams of love Whilst on this couch of tears I lie; And cleanse my sordid soul within, By Thy Christ's blood, the bath of sin. No hallowed oils, no grains, I need, No rags of saints, no purging fire; One rosie drop from David's seed Was worlds of seas to quench Thine ire. Oh, precious ransom! which once paid, That "consummatum est" was said, And said by Him who said no more, But sealed it with His dying breath: Thou then that hast dispunged my score, And dying wast the death of Death, Be to me now, on Thee I call, My life, my strength, my joy, my all! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DREARY CHANGE by WALTER SCOTT SYMPATHY by HENRY DAVID THOREAU THE FIRST DANDELION by WALT WHITMAN THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET by SAMUEL WOODWORTH INVITATION TO A PAINTER: 2 by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM THE BIRD FANCIER by WILLIAM ROSE BENET ROMAN ANEMONES by MATHILDE BLIND |