8,8,8,8,8,8 tr., John Brownlie I When in the clouds the Lord appears, And angels stand around His throne; When judgment fills the soul with fears, And none can aught of sin disown; -- Spare me, O Lord, Thy creature spare, And let my soul Thy mercy share. II Even in Thy judgment mercy shew; -- But ere that awful day awakes, Make me my guilty state to know, And from my evil courses break; -- Spare me, O Lord, Thy creature spare, And let my soul Thy mercy share. III For Thou art pitiful and kind, And Thou hast died, O Judge of men, That, ere the Judgment, I may find The path that leads to life again; -- Spare me, O Lord, Thy creature spare, And let my soul Thy mercy share. IV I have no penitence nor tears, I have no merit of my own; But, ah! my soul is filled with fears, And gladly would its sin disown; -- Spare me, O Lord, Thy creature spare, And let my soul Thy mercy share. V And bring me nigh the throne of grace, That, ere the day of Judgment dire, I may behold Thy loving face, And flee Thine all consuming ire; -- Spare me, O Lord, Thy creature spare, And let my soul Thy mercy share. VI Swift draws the day of Judgment nigh; Wake, wake, my soul, the Judge is near! And call for mercy while thy cry Can enter His inclining ear; -- Spare me, O Lord, Thy creature spare, And let my soul Thy mercy share. |