860

“Pardon mine iniquity; for it is great.” Ps. 25. 11

J. Hart              C.M.

1
From poisonous errors, pleasing cheats,
 And gilded baits of sin,
 Which, swallowed as delicious meats,
 Infect and rot within;

2
Lord, pardon a backslider base,
 Returning from the dead;
 Ashamed to show his shameful face,
 Or lift his guilty head.

3
Ah! what a fool have I been made!
 Or rather made myself;
 That mariner’s mad part I played,
 That sees, yet strikes the shelf.

4
How weak must be this wicked heart,
 Which, boasting much to know,
 Made light of all thy bitter smart
 And wantoned with thy woe!

5
Monstrous ingratitude I own,
 Well worthy wrath divine;
 Can blood such horrid crimes atone?
 Yes, blood so rich as thine.

6
Then, since thy mercy makes me melt,
 My baseness I deplore;
 Regard the grief and shame I’ve felt,
 And daily make them more.