Alas, My God, My Sins Are Great

Alas! my God! my sins are great

My con­sci­ence doth up­braid me;

And now I find that at my strait

No man hath pow­er to aid me.

And fled I hence

in my des­pair

In some lone spot to hide me

My griefs would still be with me there

Thy hand still hold and guide me.

Nay

Thee I seek—I mer­it naught

Yet pi­ty and re­store me;

Be not Thy wrath

just God

my lot

Thy Son hath suf­fered for me.

If pain and woe must fol­low sin

Then be my path still rough­er

Here spare me not; if Heav­en I win

On earth I glad­ly suf­fer.

But curb my heart

for­give my guilt

Make Thou my pa­tience firm­er

For they must miss the good Thou wilt

Who at Thy teach­ings mur­mur.

Then deal with me as seems Thee best

Thy grace will help me bear it

If but at last I see Thy rest

And with my Sav­ior share it.