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THE BACKSLIDER'S CONFESSION.

“Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son.”

When I was a little child,
O, what sweetness did I prove?
Then on me my Father smiled,
Clasp'd me in the arms of love;
Bore me all my infant days,
Gently by His Spirit led,
Dandled me upon His knees,
Made me on His promise feed.
But, alas! I soon rebell'd,
Would not cast on Him my care;
Swell'd with pride, with passion swell'd,
I could neither fall nor err.
I was strong and able grown,
I could for myself provide,
I had wisdom of my own:
Let the weaker seek a guide.

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When to Him I would not look,
Grieved and hardly forced away,
Me my Guide at length forsook,
Me my Father left to stray.
Angrily He hid His face:
Careless of His smile or frown,
I pursued my evil ways,
Frowardly in sin went on.
Back recall'd, I know not how,
Father, I my folly mourn:
If Thou art my Father now,
Now assist me to return.
Freely my backslidings heal,
Once again become my Guide;
Save me from my wayward will,
Empty of myself and pride.
Thou who all my ways hast seen,
Since I would from Thee depart,
Suffer me no more to lean
To my own deceitful heart.
O, repair my grievous loss,
Comfort to my soul restore:
Once a little child I was:
Lift me up to fall no more.
Give me back my innocence,
Give me back my filial fears,
Humble, loving confidence,
Praying sighs, and speaking tears.
Weak and helpless may I be,
To Thy only will resign'd,
Ever hanging upon Thee,
Simple, ignorant, and blind.

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Abba, Father! Hear my cry,
Look upon Thy weeping child:
Weeping at Thy feet I lie;
Kiss me, and be reconciled:
Take me up into Thine arms,
Let me hang upon Thy breast,
Hide me there secure from harms,
Lull my sorrowing soul to rest.