Luke xv. 17, 18, 19.
In dust and ashes let me humbled lie,
For I have sinned against my God and friend;
Nor ever upward lift my troubled eye,
But only tears let fall and groanings send.
And wilt Thou hear, who, merciful as just,
Dost pity on the bleeding bosom take?
Yes, Thou wilt mark the suppliant in the dust,
The bowed and bruised reed Thou wilt not break!
Here is my hope, and it is only here;
For I have sinned — how much God only knows;
Thy law have broken, put away thy fear,
And caused the sneer and scoffings of thy foes.
Low in the dust my worthless head I lay,
Till God shall hear my prayer, and take my guilt away.
— American Cottage Life (1850) XXIV.
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