Ash Wednesday

My sin! my sin! O God! my sin
Lies heavy on this heart within,
All thro' the dreary live-long day
Wearing my aimless life away,
All thro' the weary watch of night,
Tossing my bed till morning's light,
It lays its heavy load on me,
Miserere Domine!

My sin! my sin! O God! my sin!
Where does its sad account begin?
Par off in early wasted years
I see it thro' these dimming tears;
Hence my whole life its clouds attend
With darkening shadow: where the end
Of all this shade and gloom for me!
Miserere Domine!

My sin! my sin! O God! my sin!
What power shall peace and pardon win?
What shall blot out the scarlet stain
That doth upon my soul remain!
What will for me with Mercy plead —
For me with Justice intercede —
Break these sad chains, and set me free!
Miserere Domine!

My grief! my grief! O God! my grief
Finds in Thy sorrows its relief;
My soul kneels down by Thy distress,
And, with Thee in the wilderness,
Watching Thy long and patient fast,
Conflict, and triumph at the last,
Finds heart to lift its voice to Thee,
Miserere Domine!

Thy pain! Thy pain! O God! Thy pain
Is my heart's ease, Thy loss my gain:
Thy love in all its depths and heights,
These forty days and forty nights,
My soul will measure, scale, and prove.
Until it learn itself — to love,
And fix its only hope on Thee,
Miserere Domine!

Thy fast! Thy fast! O God! Thy fast
Shall thus become my feast at last,
When — thro' long days and nights of care,
And deep heart-searchings — faith and prayer
Shall take the sins they have descried,
And lay them by Thy suffering side,
And lift their voice, and cry to Thee,
Miserere Domine!