DE PROFUNDIS

Out of the darkness I call;

I stretch forth my hands unto Thee.

Loose these fetters that foully enthral;

To their lock Thou alone hast the key.

Low at Thy footstool I fall,

Forgive and Thy servant is free!

Folly took hold of my time,

On pleasure I perched, to my woe;

I was snared in The Evil One's lime

And now all his promptings I know.

Crimson as blood is my crime.

Yet Thou canst wash whiter than snow.

Heaven overhead is one frown;

About me the black waters rave;

To the deep I go dreadfully down;

O pluck my feet out of the grave;

Lord! I am sinking, I drown,

O save, for Thou only canst save.

A Celtic Psaltery Being Mainly Renderings in English Verse from Irish & Welsh Poetry · 第 165 / 178 题