Isaac Watts · 89 of 724

The Psalms of David · Psalm 38

Amidst thy wrath remember love, Restore thy servant, Lord; Nor let a Father's chast'ning prove Like an avenger's sword.

Thine arrows stick within my heart, My flesh is sorely pressed; Between the sorrow and the smart, My spirit finds no rest.

My sins a heavy load appear, And o'er my head are gone; Too heavy they for me to bear, Too hard for me t' atone.

My thoughts are like a troubled sea, My head still bending down; And I go mourning all the day, Beneath my Father's frown.

Lord, I am weak and broken sore, None of my powers are whole: The inward anguish makes me roar, The anguish of my soul.

All my desire to thee is known, Thine eye counts every tear; And every sigh, and every groan, Is noticed by thine ear.

Thou art my God, my only hope; My God will hear my cry; My God will bear my spirit up, When Satan bids me die.

[My foot is ever apt to slide, My foes rejoice to see 't; They raise their pleasure and their pride When they supplant my feet.

But I'll confess my guilt to thee, And grieve for all my sin; I'll mourn how weak my graces be, And beg support divine.

My God, forgive my follies past, And be for ever nigh; O Lord of my salvation, haste, Before thy servant die.]