Psalm LI

After thy loving kindness, Lord,
Some pity on a sinner take,
Blot out my hainous trespasses,
Good Lord, for thy great mercies sake

O wash me throughly from my sin,
Cleanse me from mine iniquities;

For my transgressions I confess,
My sin is still before mine eyes.

Against thee, O my God, I sin'd,
And did this evil in thy sight;
And if I were therefore condemn'd,
Yet were thy judgments just and right.

Thou know'st that in iniquity
My shape and nature I receiv'd;
As guilty and defil'd by sin
My sinful mother me conceiv'd.

I know that which thou dost desire
Is truth within the secret heart;
And wisdom thou wilt make me know
Even in the hidden inward part.

With sacred Hyssop purge thou me,
And then I shall be cleansed so:
Wash thou me (in my Saviour's blood)
And I shall whiter be than snow.

Of joy and gladness make thou me
To hear again the welcome voice,
That so the bones which thou for sin
Hast justly broken, may rejoyce.

From the beholding of my sin,
O turn away thy angry face;
And all my great iniquity
Blot out, and utterly deface.

O God, create in me a heart
Clean and unspotted in thy sight;
And by thy grace in me renew
A spirit sincere and upright.

And from thy gracious presence, Lord,
Do not this sinner cast away;
And of thy holy quickning spirit
Deprive me not, I humbly pray.

Let the joy of thy saving grace
To my sad soul restored be;
And with thy free enlarging spirit
Uphold, confirm, and comfort me.

Then I will teach thy holy ways
To those that now transgressors be
And so ungodly sinful men
Shall be converted unto thee.

O thou the God of all my hopes,
Deliver me from guilt of blood;
Then of thy saving righteousness
My joyful tongue shall sing aloud.

Open my lips, which by my sin
Now silenced and closed are;
And then shall my enlarged mouth
Thy praises publickly declare.

I know it is not sacrifice
Which thou requirest I should bring,
Else would I give it: Nor art thou
Delighted with burnt-offering.

The sacrifice which pleaseth God,
Is a repenting broken spirit;
O God, thou never wilt despise
A heart that's broken and contrite.

In thy good pleasure, Lord, do good
To Sion and thy people all;
Of thy belov'd Jerusalem
Do thou build up the broken wall.

The sacrifice of righteousness
Shall then be pleasing unto thee;
Better than whole burnt-offerings then
Shall on thine Altar offered be.