On the Death of Thomas Beard, 1, Part 2

O Saviour from sin,
If mine Thou hast been,
And sprinkled my conscience, and bid me be clean;
With Thy servant, while tried
In the furnace, abide,
And O! let me never be torn from Thy side.

I never shall rest,
Or be perfectly blest,
While the tempter hath left any hold in my breast:
Thou hast loosen'd the chain,
Thou hast soften'd the pain,
Yet my sorrow, as long as my sin, must remain.

From actual blame
I am saved by Thy name,
But mourn, till Thou save me from all that I am
Till more than subdued,
Till entirely renew'd blood.
Both my heart, and my nature are wash'd in Thy

My pardon is sure,
If I always endure;
But still I expect Thee to perfect my cure:
With trembling and fear,
While sin is so near,
I pass the short time of my pilgrimage here.

Fain would I be clean,
And all-holy within;
I thirst for Thine utmost salvation from sin:
Thou still dost restrain;
But how great is my pain,
When I do not commit it, to feel that I can.

For this do I wail
Through the sorrowful vale,
Till my sin and my trouble at once Thou expel:
This, this is my load,
Though absolved by Thy blood,
I am capable still of offending my God.

Come, Jesus, and cleanse
My inbred offence,
O take the occasion of stumbling from hence,
The infection within,
The possible sin
Extirpate, by bringing Thy righteousness in.

By all Thou hast done
For me to atone,
By all Thou hast suffer'd to make me Thine own,
By all which Thou art,
I beseech Thee, convert,
And renew, and eternally reign in my heart.