1 OUT of the depths of self-despair To Thee, O Lord, I cry: My misery mark, attend my prayer, And bring salvation nigh. 2 Death’s sentence in myself I feel; Beneath Thy wrath I faint: O, let Thine ear consider well The voice of my complaint. 3 If Thou art rigorously severe, Who may the test abide? Where shall the man of sin appear, Or how be justified? 4 But, O! forgiveness is with Thee, That sinners may adore, With filial fear Thy goodness see, And never grieve Thee more. 5 I look to see