Righteous Lord, Thy peo­ple spare!
Lo! We turn at last to Thee,
Humbly the cor­rect­ion bear
Of our past ini­qui­ty,
Own the cause of our dis­tress,
Mournfully our sins con­fess.

We Thy judg­ments have ab­horred,
We Thy co­ve­nant have broke,
Daringly de­nied our Lord,
Cast away His ea­sy yoke,
Would not cast our sins away,
Would not know our gra­cious day.

Therefore is the plague be­gun,
Therefore doth it still pro­ceed,
Wrath di­vine by means un­known,
Wrath di­vine hath done the deed,
Made the stalls and pas­tures void,
God our cat­tle hath de­stroyed.

Heavier woes He keeps in store,
If we still re­fuse to turn,
Dare His an­ger’s ut­most pow­er,
All His lin­ger­ing pi­ty scorn;
But be­neath Thy hand we bow,
Stay Thy plague, and save us now.

Jesu, save us from our sins,
Save us from our plague of heart;
All of un­belief con­vince,
All un­to Thy­self con­vert;
Let our sin-sick spir­its find
Thee the heal­er of mankind.

No de­light Thy good­ness hath
In the death of him who dies;
Grant us then the liv­ing faith,
Faith that on Thy blood re­lies,
Faith that all Thy grace re­ceives,
Faith that all Thy full­ness gives.