Psalm 51

Lord, to a sinner Mercy show:
Which since in Thee so infinite;
Let all thy streames of Mercy flow,
And purifie me in thy sight.
O wash thou my polluted Soule!
O cleanse me from my bloudy Deed!
That to my Selfe appeare so foule;
And now in true Contrition bleed.
My sinnes, unmask't, before Thee lye;
Who have deserv'd thy wrath alone:
Which I confesse, to testifie
Thy Truth, and make thy Justice knowne.
In sinne conceiv'd, brought forth in sin;
Sin suckt I from my Mothers brest:
Thou lov'st a heart sincere within,
Where Wisdome is a constant guest.
With Hysope purge, from blemish cleare;
O wash, then falling Snow more white!
Lord, let me thy remission heare:
The Bones, which thou hast broke, unite.
Blot out my crimes; O separate
My trembling Guilt far from thy view!
A cleane Heart in my brest create;
A Mind, to Thee confirm'd, renew.
Nor cast me from thy Presence, Lord;
Nor O thy holy Spirit withdraw!
But thy life-quickening Grace afford;
Inlarge my Will t'imbrace thy Law.
Then Sinners I with heavenly Food
Will feed, directed in thy Wayes:
O my Redeemer, cleanse from blood
The Soule, that will thy Mercie praise.
Give Thou my Verse an argument;
And they thy Goodnesse shall resound.
No Sacrifice will Thee content;
Nor Altars with Oblations crown'd.
Else, I would Hecatombs impart:
True sorrow is Thy Sacrifice.
A broken and a contrite Heart,
My God, Thou never wilt despise.
Thy Sion with accustom'd Grace
(Lest my foule crimes her shame procure)
In thy protecting Armes imbrace;
And faire Jerusalem immure.
Then we, with due Solemnitie,
To Thee our gratefull Vowes will pay;
And Buls, which never Yoke did try,
Vpon thy flaming Altar lay.