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Dec 2021
Out of the depths I cry
To You, Father of Lights!
My God, who reigns on high,
Out of the highest heights,
Please, God, look down on me
And turn to me an ear,
That You a son may see,
His supplications hear.

Were You each sin to count,
To weigh, and make us bear,
Lord, who could stand th'amount
To shoulder where'er they err?
No one.  But God forgives.
Fearsome, the Lord God reigns.
With sovereign pow'r He lives,
The pow'r to whiten stains.

I wait for You, O Lord:
O Lord, my soul will wait.
My hope is in the Word,
And so my hope is great.
And more, O more than they
Who watch and wait for morn,
My soul awaits, I say,
Awaits You, unforlorn.  

Israel, trust in Him:
Redemption plenteous
For guilty sinners grim
He offers in overplus.
Israel, hope in God,
For God is merciful:
He will not spare the rod,
But covers it with wool.
Written by
The Poet's Progress
614
 
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