ETERNAL Lord! eased of a cumbrous load, And loosened from the world, I turn to Thee; Shun, like a shattered bark, the storm, and flee To thy protection for a safe abode. The crown of thorns, hands pierced upon the tree, The meek, benign, and lacerated face, To a sincere repentance promise grace, To the sad soul give hope of pardon free. With justice mark not Thou, O Light divine, My fault, nor hear it with thy sacred ear; 10 Neither put forth that way thy arm severe; Wash with thy blood my sins; thereto incline More readily the more my years require Help, and forgiveness speedy and entire.
