Lord How Distressed Is My Mind
Lord, how distressed is my mind
To be within these walls confin’d;
What griefs and sorrows do i feel!
In this, my dark and loathsome cell.
While looking through this iron grate,
With horrors I do meditate
On what my fate may be at last,
When my confinement here is past.
I have despis’d thy holy laws,
Until it prov’d to be the cause
Of these, my troubles and distress:
Of shame, reproaches and disgrace.
And while I feel this just rebuke,
Enable me to bear the stroke,
And what my punishments may be;
As my offences bring on me.
O may this, my imprisonment,
Cause me sincerely to repent;
May thy afflicting rod and smart,
Work godly sorrow in my heart.
For these the crimes that I have done,
My suff’rings here cannot atone;
Not any thing but Jesu’s blood
Can gain for me the grace of God.
A change of heart and living faith,
Fits me, for either life or death;
By this I may be well prepar’d
To live or die, and meet my Lord.