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,

How I desire Thee.

And strengthen me now

In this, my ceaseless crying:

Miserere, miserere, I am dying.