One Hundred Holy Songs, Carols, and Sacred Ballads Original, and suitable for music [by Jean Ingelow] |
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[How dreadful is this place.] |
 | One Hundred Holy Songs, Carols, and Sacred Ballads |  |
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[How dreadful is this place.]
“Behold, the Judge standeth at the door.”
How dreadful is this place.
As Thou wert far away,
I slept in this my day,
Nor would Thy grace.
I wake and find that Thou art here,
And my soul melts in me for fear,
Lord, of Thy face.
As Thou wert far away,
I slept in this my day,
Nor would Thy grace.
I wake and find that Thou art here,
And my soul melts in me for fear,
Lord, of Thy face.
Thou Judge of quick and dead,
Now hast Thou found my soul;
O'er me Thy thunders roll,
Me sore bestead.
O how shall I Thy glance abide,
No place is found where I may hide
My guilty head.
Now hast Thou found my soul;
O'er me Thy thunders roll,
Me sore bestead.
O how shall I Thy glance abide,
No place is found where I may hide
My guilty head.
Lord Jesu, dread, yet dear,
Thy faded eyes are sweet;
Low at Thy piercèd feet
I sink for fear.
O suffering Son of God most high,
If I must perish, let me lie
And perish here.
Thy faded eyes are sweet;
Low at Thy piercèd feet
I sink for fear.
O suffering Son of God most high,
If I must perish, let me lie
And perish here.
Lord Christ, I have no plea,
Thou knowest my guilt is great;
Pity my lost estate,
My misery see.
Absolve, O Lord, my sinful soul;
None can forgive and make me whole,
Jesu, but Thee.
Thou knowest my guilt is great;
Pity my lost estate,
My misery see.
Absolve, O Lord, my sinful soul;
None can forgive and make me whole,
Jesu, but Thee.
| One Hundred Holy Songs, Carols, and Sacred Ballads | |