Common Tune

Hymn · Psalm 40

The Mercy of God Besought

AULD LANG SYNE · 8.6.8.6.D · words from The Psalter, 1912 · music Scottish traditional

auto-underlaid These words and this tune share a meter but have no hand-edited setting; the underlay was fitted automatically (syllable-for-note, validated).

The Mercy of God Besought in has not Thee failed I hold Yea, My With glad heart bide. grief; plore; a for im all sins ten are who der Let 2. My 1. Thy 3. I can re now my O count, joice, seek more mer cies, Lord, Thee than be to me er re ni ev mag my O The Pre Lord haste serve fied. lief. more. lov pleased, let kind ing O Thy And, Be But say, me, truth Thy tion, cue Thy sal to ness Lord, va res and has and ful not put deeds need The Dis My Lord mayed sin got; flight, rise; for to a low those count soul ly who less My Be For bit hurt me, ter my passed have and to com ills seek state my and not ry de my tar woe raise Lord, in dare Come, Who I not. light. eyes. art Sav selves o they my them have they Thou And Yea, help, shame me; my to en iour be ver and put tak The Psalter, 1912 AULD LANG SYNE 8.6.8.6.D Scottish traditional
The Mercy of God Besought in has not Thee failed I hold Yea, My With glad heart bide. grief; plore; a for im all sins ten are who der Let 2. My 1. Thy 3. I can re now my O count, joice, seek more mer cies, Lord, Thee than be to me er re ni ev mag my O The Pre Lord haste serve fied. lief. more. lov pleased, let kind ing O Thy And, Be But say, me, truth Thy tion, cue Thy sal to ness Lord, va res and has and ful not put deeds need The Dis My Lord mayed sin got; flight, rise; for to a low those count soul ly who less My Be For bit hurt me, ter my passed have and to com ills seek state my and not ry de my tar woe raise Lord, in dare Come, Who I not. light. eyes. art Sav selves o they my them have they Thou And Yea, help, shame me; my to en iour be ver and put tak The Psalter, 1912 AULD LANG SYNE 8.6.8.6.D Scottish traditional

1.Thy tender mercies, O my Lord,
Withhold not I implore;
But let Thy kindness and Thy truth
Preserve me evermore.
For countless ills have compassed me,
My sinful deeds arise;
Yea, they have overtaken me;
I dare not raise my eyes.

2.My sins are more than I can count,
My heart has failed for grief;
Be pleased, O Lord, to rescue me,
O haste to my relief.
Be those who seek to hurt my soul
Dismayed and put to flight,
And they themselves be put to shame
Who in my woe delight.

3.Let all who seek Thee now rejoice,
Yea, glad in Thee abide.
And, loving Thy salvation, say,
The Lord be magnified.
My lowly state and bitter need
The Lord has not forgot;
Thou art my Saviour and my help,
Come, Lord, and tarry not.

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Same meter but needs editorial underlay: SERAPH, ST. MATTHEW.

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