Plung’d in the Confines of Despair, Z. 142

Plung'd in the confines of despair,
To God I cried with fervent pray'r
O, lend to me a gracious ear
Not sunk so low but thou can'st hear.
Should'st thou against each evil deed
In strict severity proceed,
Who would be able to abide
Thy censure, and be justified?
But thou forgiveness dost proclaim
That men may turn and fear thy name.
To thy rich grace, O Lord, we fly,
And on thy promises rely.
My soul less brooks thy seeming stay,
Than guards that wait th'approach of day.
O, therefore let the good and just
In God alone repose their trust.
The frailty of our state he knows
His plenteous mercy ever flows.
To humble souls he gracious is,
And pardons what they have done amiss.