Isaac Watts · 299 of 724
The Psalms of David · Psalm 130
From deep distress and troubled thoughts To thee, my God, I raised my cries; If thou severely mark our faults, No flesh can stand before thine eyes.
But thou hast built thy throne of Free to dispense thy pardons there, That sinners may approach thy face, And hope and love, as well as fear.
As the benighted pilgrims wait, And long, and wish for breaking day, So waits my soul before thy gate; When will my God his face display?
My trust is fixed upon thy word, Nor shall I trust thy word in vain; Let mourning souls address the Lord, And find relief from all their pain.
Great is his love, and large his grace, Through the of his Son; He turns our feet from sinful ways, And pardons what our hands have done.