Rampolli - A Year's Diary of an Old Soul
Home - George MacDonald - Rampolli - A Year's Diary of an Old SoulTHE HUNDRED AND THIRTIETH PSALM.
From trouble deep I cry to thee;
Lord God, hear thou my crying;
Thy gracious ear oh turn to me,
Open it to thy sighing.
For if thou mean'st to look upon
The wrong and evil that is done,
Who, Lord, can stand before thee?
With thee availeth nought but grace
To cover trespass mortal;
Our good deeds cannot show their face,
In best life they come short all.
Before thee no one glory can,
And so must tremble every man,
And live by thy grace only.
Hope therefore in my God will I,
On my deserts nought founding;
Upon him shall my heart rely,
All on his goodness grounding.
What his true word doth promise me
My comfort shall and refuge be;
That will I always wait for.
And if it last into the night,
And last again till morning,
Yet shall my heart hope in God's might,
Despair and foresight scorning.
Thus Israel must keep his post,
For he was born of the Holy Ghost,
And for his God must tarry.
Although our sin be great; God's grace
Is greater to relieve us;
His hand from helping nothing stays,
Howe'er the hurt be grievous.
The shepherd good alone is He,
Who will at last set Israel free,
From all and every trespass.
- THE LORD'S SUPPER.