510    C.M.     D. Herbert
“O Lord, rebuke me not in thine anger.” Ps. 6. 1, 4

1 O Lord, rebuke me not in wrath;
  Thy anger who can bear?
  ’Tis heaven to live beneath thy smiles;
  Thy frowns create despair.

2 I’m but a mass of filthiness;
  I own my wretched case;
  O heal my loathsome, stinking wounds,
  And magnify thy grace.

3 [Ah! must I die with this sad plague?
  What! is thy pity gone?
  Lord, look, and heal my broken bones;
  O look on God the Son!]

4 On thee I’ll wait; in thee I’ll trust;
  For thou art still my God;
  Crush not my soul beneath thy hand,
  O take away thy rod.

5 Lord, let not guilt thus plague my soul;
  I would be rid of sin.
  From head to foot I’m nought but wounds,
  But, ah! I’m worse within.

6 [Within, O what a hellish crew!
  Who knows what dwells within?
  How oft some darling lust creeps out,
  Some unsuspected sin!]

7 Lord Jesus, heal this malady,
  And set my broken bones;
  Let my petitions reach thy ears,
  Though only sighs and groans.

8 Base as I am, yet, blessed Lord,
  I dare to make this plea:
  As Jesus died to save the lost,
  Perhaps he died for me.