“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.
