Diess stelle deinem Vater für, Dass Er sein Herze lenke Und gnädig wiederkehr zu mir, Nicht meiner Schulden denke: Auf dass Er meine Sündenlast, Die Du auf Dich genommen hast, Ins tiefe Meer versenke. Hierauf will ich nun jederzeit Mit Ernst und Sorgfalt meiden Der schnöden Lüste Eitelkeit, Und lieber alles leiden, Denn dass ich Sünd mit Willen thu: Ach, Herr, gieb Du stets Kraft dazu, Bis ich von hinnen scheide. Luise Henriette, Electress of Brandenburg. 1627-1667. The Contrite Heart. Turn Thou me, and I shall be turned. _Jer._ xxxi. 18. With sorrow now for past misdeeds, I turn to Thee, O Lord, Assured the help my conscience needs Thy mercy will afford, And, through thy Spirit, grace instil To cleanse my heart, subdue my will, And make me keep thy Word. We see not till renewed in mind Our lost and sinful state; As willing captives, deaf, and blind To thy good Spirit’s light, We follow sin’s perfidious law: Father, yet more that veil withdraw Which has obscured my sight. Speak, Lord, in love’s awakening tone, And make me now recall The wilful acts that I have done, And in thy sight done all: Thou canst my wandering heart reclaim, And cause hot burning tears of shame And penitence to fall. The riches of thy mercy, Lord, On me have largely flowed; Life, and the joys with which ’tis stored Thou freely hast bestowed; Not only sent me daily bread, But blessings showered upon my head, And fenced from ills my road. Me Thou hast saved from hell’s dark flood, Through Christ, the living God, And strown with every earthly good The paths which I have trod; My only fear, amidst my bliss, Proofs of a Father’s love to miss, The chastenings of his rod. Yet in return, should one enquire If I have served Thee well, My heart and conscience both conspire Another tale to tell: In every part the serpent, sin, With deadly fang has eaten in; Remorse I cannot quell. The sins and follies of my youth In fearful muster pass, With undisguised and naked truth, Before stern memory’s glass: The terrors of thy judgment-seat, And hell’s gulf yawning at my feet, How shall I flee, alas! I thought, as blindly on I went, Like one who walks in sleep,— Some future day I will repent, God will his mercy keep; Not gladly doth the Lord afflict. He suffereth long, He is not strict, The Shepherd with the sheep. Now all has burst upon my sight, And I am sore afraid, Lest thunder of thy righteous Might Strike my defenceless head; Through fierceness of thy wrathful cup, Both death and hell Thou stirrest up, With threatening aspect dread.