A Hymn

Oh, thou great Power ! in whom I move, For whom I live, to whom I die, Behold me through thy beams of love, Whilst on this couch of tears I lie And cleanse my sordid soul within, By thy Christ's blood, the bath of sin. No hallowed oyls, no grains I need, No rags of saints, no purging fire ; One rosie drop from David's seed Was worlds of seas to quench thine ire O precious ran some ! which once paid, That Conmminatum est was said ; And said by Him that said no more, But seal'd it with his sacred breath : Thou, then, that has dispong'd my score, And dying wast the death of Death, Be to me now, on thee I call, My life, my strength, my joy, my all!