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PSALM VI.

[Lord, in Thy wrath no more chastise]

Lord, in Thy wrath no more chastise;
Nor let Thy whole displeasure rise
Against a child of man:
Have mercy, Lord, for I am weak,
And heal my soul, diseased and sick,
And full of sin and pain.
Body and soul Thy judgments feel,
Thy heavy wrath afflicts me still:
O when shall it be o'er?
Turn Thee, O Lord, and save my soul,
And for Thy mercy's sake make whole
And bid me sin no more.

12

Here, only here, Thy love must save:
I cannot thank Thee in the grave,
Or tell Thy pardoning grace;
Who dies unpurged, for ever dies;
The sinner, as he falls, he lies
Shut up in his own place.
Weary of my unanswer'd groans;
Yet still with never-ceasing moans
I languish for relief;
With tears I wash my couch and bed;
My strength is spent, my beauty fled,
My life worn out with grief.
But shall I to my foes give place?
Or in the name of Jesus chase
My troublers all away?
In Jesu's name, I say, “Depart,
Devils and sins, nor vex my heart!
For God hath heard me pray.
“The Lord hath heard my groans and tears;
The Lord shall still accept my prayers,
And all my foes o'erthrow:
Shall conquer, and destroy them too,
And make even me a creature new,
A spotless saint below.”