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The Cry of a Convicted Sinner



In whose hand is my life and whose are all
    my ways,
Keep me from fluttering about religion;
  fix me firm in it,
  for I am irresolute;
  my decisions are smoke and vapour,
  and I do not glorify thee,
  or behave according to thy will;
Cut me not off before my thoughts grow
      to responses,
    and the budding of my soul into full flower,
    for thou art forbearing and good,
    patient and kind.
Save me from myself,
  from the artifices and deceits of sin,
  from the treachery of my perverse nature,
  from denying thy charge against my offences,
  from a life of continual rebellion against thee,
  from wrong principles, views, and ends;
  for I know that all my thoughts, affections,
    desires and pursuits are alienated from thee.
I have acted as if I hated thee, although thou art
    love itself;
  have contrived to tempt thee to the uttermost,
  to wear out thy patience;
  have lived evilly in word and action.
Had I been a prince
  I would long ago have crushed such a rebel;
Had I been a father
  I would long since have rejected my child.
O, thou Father of my spirit,
  thou King of my life,
    cast me not into destruction,
    drive me not from thy presence,
    but wound my heart that it may be healed;
    break it that thine own hand
      may make it whole.

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