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.