Classic Poem

O Gracious God, rebuke me not,
What time thy wrath is at the height;
Nor as resentment waxes hot,
Let David feel its weight.

O Lord, have mercy on my groans,
Let mine infirmities be spar'd;
My Saviour heal me, for my bones
Are harrass'd and impair'd.

My troubled spirits also droop
With all that puts my frame in fear;
But how much longer must I stoop
To trials so severe?

O captain of salvation, turn
My vessel from the nether lake,
Let mercy stand upon the stern
For my Redeemer's sake.

For all that grace and goodness gave,
What man in death a sense retains;
And who from forth th' ungrateful grave
Shall raise the sacred strains?

In this my lamentable plight,
Ev'n unto weariness I weep;
And all the melancholy night
My couch in tears I steep.

My healthy bloom thro' such excess
Of grief is wasted and declin'd;
Because of all the woes that press
At once upon my mind.

Away, and let my coast be clear'd
Of all the worldly men and vain;
For God, thro' Jesus Christ has heard
My voice as I complain.

God has received my soul's appeal,
And does her faithfulness allow;
God shall with David kindly deal,
And sanctify his vow.

But all that my good works defame,
Shall shame and terror overtake;—
And may that terror and that shame
For true repentance make.