Dr. Watts's Imitation of the Psalms of David ‎#121

121. Lord, I would spread my sore distress

1 Lord, I would spread my sore distress
And guilt before thine eyes:
Against thy laws, against thy grace,
How high my crimes arise?

2 Shouldst thou condemn my soul to hell,
And crush my flesh to dust,
Heav'n would approve thy vengeance well,
And earth must own it just.

3 I from the stock of Adam came,
Unholy and unclean;
All my original is shame,
And all my nature sin.

4 Born in a world of guilt, I drew
Contagion with my breath;
And as my days advanc'd, I grew
A juster prey for death.

5 Cleanse me, O Lord, and cheer my soul
With thy forgiving love:
O! make my broken spirit whole,
And bid my pains remove.

6 Let not thy Spirit quite depart,
Nor drive me from thy face;
Create anew my vicious heart,
And fill it with thy grace.

7 Then will I make thy mercy known
Before the sons of men;
Backsliders shall address thy throne,
And turn to God again.

Text Information

• First Line: Lord, I would spread my sore distress
• Meter: C. M.
• Language: English
• Publication Date: 1790
• Scripture:
  Psalm 51
• Notes: Part 1

Tune Information

(No tune information)