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Miserere my Maker

Miserere, my Maker, O have mercy on me, wretch, strangely distressèd, Cast down with sin oppressèd; Mightily vexed to the soul's bitter anguish, E'en to the death I languish. Yet let it please Thee To hear my ceaseless crying: Miserere, miserere, I am dying. Miserere, my Saviour, I, alas, am for my sins fearfully grievèd, And cannot be relievèd But by Thy death, which Thou didst suffer for me, Wherefore I adore Thee. And do beseech Thee To hear my ceaseless crying: Miserere, miserere, I am dying. Holy Spirit, miserere, Comfort my distressèd soul, grieved for youth's folly, Purge, cleanse and make it holy; With Thy sweet due of grace and peace inspire me, Holy I desire Thee. And strengthen me now In this, my ceaseless crying: Miserere, miserere, I am dying.