The book of sacred song . ELIZABETHAN: STUART. A CONTRITE HEART THOU WILT NOT DESPISE. LORD, turn not Thy face awayFrom him that lieth prostrate;Lamenting sore his sinful life,Before Thy mercy-gate ; Which gate Thou openest wide to those That do lament their sin :Shut not that gate against me, Lor J, But let me enter in. And call me not to mine account, How I have lived here;For then, I know right well, O Lord, How vile I shall appear. I need not to confess my life, For surely Thou canst tellWhat I have been, and what I am, T know Thou knowst it well. So come I to Thy mercy-gate, Where mercy d


The book of sacred song . ELIZABETHAN: STUART. A CONTRITE HEART THOU WILT NOT DESPISE. LORD, turn not Thy face awayFrom him that lieth prostrate;Lamenting sore his sinful life,Before Thy mercy-gate ; Which gate Thou openest wide to those That do lament their sin :Shut not that gate against me, Lor J, But let me enter in. And call me not to mine account, How I have lived here;For then, I know right well, O Lord, How vile I shall appear. I need not to confess my life, For surely Thou canst tellWhat I have been, and what I am, T know Thou knowst it well. So come I to Thy mercy-gate, Where mercy doth abound,Requiring mercy for my sin, To heal my deadly wound. THE BOOK OF SACRED SONG. Mercy, O Lord ! mercy I ask : This is the total sum;For mercy, Lord, is all my suit; Lord, let Thy mercy come ! THE NATIVITY. SING the birth was born to-night,The Author both of life and light,The Angels so did sound like the ravishd shepherds said,Who saw the light, and were afraid,Yet searched, and true they found it. The Son of God, the Eternal King,That did us all salvation bring, And freed the soul from danger;He whom the whole world could not take,The Word, which heaven and earth did make, Was now laid in a manger. The Fathers wisdom wilPd it so;The Sons obedience knew no NO; Both wills were of one as that wisdom had decreed,The Word was now made flesh indeed, And took on Him our nature. ELIZABETHAN : STUART. What comfort by Him do we win,Who made Himself the price of sin, To make us heirs of glory !To see this Babe, all innocence,A martyr born in our defence; Can man forget this story ? A HYMN TO GOD THE FATHER. EAR me, O God !A broken heart9_ Is my best part:Use still Thy rod,That I may proveTherein, Thy love. If Thou hadst notBeen stern to me,But left me free, I had forgot Myself


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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, booksubjectenglishpoetry, booksubjectreligiousp