It is Mine Own Infirmity

Have mercy, Lord, Thy wrath remove,
Nor let Thy judgments weigh me down:
I cannot live without Thy love,
I cannot stand beneath Thy frown.

Wilt Thou not once Thy face display,
And dart a ray of heavenly light?
Still must I urge my cheerless way,
And mourn throughout my long-lived night?

Lo! in my prayer I ever mourn,
Vext with the sad remains of sin,
Broken, and bruised, and rack'd and torn,
How shall I bear this hell within?

This unbelief, these cruel fears,
Distracting doubts, and torturing pain?
While Thou art silent at my tears;
Thou seest them ever flow in vain.

And must I yield to black despair?
In vain on Thee for mercy call,
Tempted above what I can bear?
And wilt Thou suffer me to fall?

Never again disclose Thy face,
Or show me the atoning blood?
Have I exhausted all Thy grace?
Hath God forgotten to be good?

For ever is Thy mercy gone,
Thy truth, and faithfulness, and love?
Doth angry Justice rule alone?
Have I no Advocate above?

Then pour Thy vengeance on my head,
And quench the smoking flax in me;
Break (if Thou canst) a bruised reed,
And cast me out who come to Thee.

Jesu, I come my doom to meet,
A sinner whom Thou wilt not spare:
But I will perish at Thy feet,
The first that ever perish'd there.