1 Shew pity, Lord, O Lord, forgive, Let a repenting rebel live: Are not thy mercies large and free? May not a sinner trust in thee? 2 My crimes are great, but not surpass The power and glory of thy grace; Great God, thy nature hath no bound, So let thy pardoning love be found. 3 O wash my Soul from every sin, And make my guilty conscience clean; Here on my heart the burden lies, And past offences pain my eyes. 4 My lips with shame my sins confess Against thy law, against thy grace: Lord, should thy judgment grow severe, I am condemn'd, but thou art clear. 5 Should sudden vengeance seize my breath, I must pronounce thee just in death; And if my soul were sent to hell, Thy righteous law approves it well. 6 Yet save a trembling sinner, Lord, Whose hope, still hovering round thy word, Would light on some sweet promise there, Some sure support against despair. Psalms 51:2. Second Part. L. M. Original and actual sin confessed. 1 Lord, I am vile, conceiv'd in sin; And born unholy and unclean; Sprung from the man whose guilty fall Corrupts the race, and taints us all. 2 Soon as we draw our infant-breath, The seeds of sin grow up for death; Thy law demands a perfect heart, But we're defil'd in every part. 3 [Great God, create my heart anew, And form my spirit pure and true: O make me wise betimes to spy My danger, and my remedy.] 4 Behold I fall before thy face; My only refuge is thy grace: No outward forms can make me clean; The leprosy lies deep within. 5 No bleeding bird, nor bleeding beast, Nor hyssop branch, nor sprinkling priest, Nor running brook, nor flood, nor sea, Can wash the dismal stain away. 6 Jesus, my God, thy blood alone Hath power sufficient to atone; Thy blood can make me white as snow; No Jewish types could cleanse me so. 7 While guilt disturbs and breaks my peace, Nor flesh, nor soul hath rest or ease; Lord, let me hear thy pardoning voice, And make my broken bones rejoice. Psalm 51:3. Third Part. L. M. The backslider restored; or, Repentance and faith in the blood of Christ. 1 O thou that hear'st when sinners cry, Tho' all my crimes before thee lie, Behold them not with angry look, But blot their memory from thy book. 2 Create my nature pure within, And form my soul averse to sin; Let thy good Spirit ne'er depart, Nor hide thy presence from my heart. 3 I cannot live without thy light, Cast out and banish'd from thy sight: Thine holy joys, my God, restore, And guard me that I fall no more. 4 Tho' I have griev'd thy Spirit, Lord, His help and comfort still afford: And let a wretch come near thy throne To plead the merits of thy Son. 5 A broken heart, my God, my King, Is all the sacrifice I bring; The God of grace will ne'er despise A broken heart for sacrifice. 6 My soul lies humbled in the dust, And owns thy dreadful sentence just; Look down, O Lord, with pitying eye, And save the soul condemn'd to die.