1 Out of the depths I cry to Thee;
Lord, hear me, I implore Thee!
Bend down Thy gracious ear to me,
My prayer let come before Thee!
If Thou remember each misdeed,
If each should have its rightful meed,
Who may abide Thy presence?
2 Our pardon is Thy gift; Thy love
And grace alone avail us.
Our works could ne'er our guilt remove,
The strictest life would fail us.
That none may boast himself of aught,
But own in fear Thy grace hath wrought
What in him seemeth righteous.
3 And thus, my hope is in the Lord,
And not in mine own merit;
I rest upon His faithful word
To them of contrite spirit.
That He is merciful and just,--
This is my comfort and my trust,
His help I wait with patience.
Martin Luther
Trans. by Catherine Winkworth
The Methodist Hymnal, 1964 edition
<idle musing>
There appears to be two versions of this floating around out there, both translated by Catherine Winkworth. Together, they appear in around ninety hymnals. I don't recall singing this hymn in either version.
Most of hymnals include some version of these two verses as well:
4 And though it tarry till the night</idle musing>
And round till morning waken,
My heart shall ne'er mistrust Thy might,
Nor count itself forsaken.
Do thus, O ye of Israel's seed,
Ye of the Spirit born indeed,
Wait for your God's appearing.5 Though great our sins and sore our woes,
His grace much more aboundeth;
His helping love no limit knows,
Our utmost need it soundeth;
Our kind and faithful Shepherd He,
Who shall at last set Israel free
From all their sin and sorrow.
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