Hymns from the East Part 8

IV

Wilt Thou own the gift I bring?

All my penitence I give Thee; Thou art my exalted King, Of Thy matchless love forgive me;-- Thou didst give Thyself for me, Now I give myself to Thee.

I

O Lord of bounty, let this bread Be Thy pure Body unto me; And let the wine in symbol poured, Tell of the glorious Mystery;-- O let me here Thy presence feel; And all my sins in mercy heal.

II

I am not worthy to partake Of Thy pure Body, gracious Lord; Nor of the Blood so freely shed By Thee, O Thou Incarnate Word; Yet grant Thy presence unto me, And let me now commune with Thee.

JUDGMENT

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.

I

The Bridegroom comes! My soul, awake, And slumber from thine eyelids shake; Hark! in the midnight hour the cry; Bestir, my soul, for He is nigh.

II

Now trim your lamp, and let its light Illume the darkness of the night; And with the tarrying host attend The Bridegroom, as the Bridegroom's friend.

III

Hast thou no oil? O foolish soul!

Why didst thou not the hours control?

Why in the darkness slumber still, Without the oil your lamp to fill?

IV

Go, get your oil,--but no, too late!

The Bridegroom's come, and closed the gate;-- "O let me knock, for He is kind, And will not leave my soul behind."

V

"O let me in, my lamp's aglow; How could I, Lord, Thy coming know?

'Twas night, I slumbered,--let me in: Forgive, O Lord, forgive my sin."

VI

Too late! The time has gone apace; Too late, 'tis gone, the hour of grace; O soul of mine, awake, awake, And slumber from thine eyelids shake.

I

O Judge of all, when sinful men To Thy dire judgment seat are brought,-- Tell not the error of my life, O tell it not.

II

When bowed with grief my tears are shed, Because my life with sin is fraught, To angel hosts tell not my sin, O tell it not.

III

O hide the secrets of my soul, And give the pardon I have sought, And to the myriads round Thy throne, O tell them not.

IV

O merciful and just Thou art; In pity view my woeful lot, And shame me not because of sin,-- O tell it not.