Thy judgments, Lord, are just; thou lovest to wear
The face of pity and of love divine;
But mine is guilt-thou must not, canst not spare,
While heaven is true, and equity is thine.
Yes, oh my God!-such crimes as mine, so dread,
Leave but the choice of punishment to thee;
Thy interest calls for judgment on my head,
And even thy mercy dares not plead for me!
Thy will be done, since 'tis thy glory's due,
Did from mine eyes the endless torrents flow;
Smite-it is time-though endless death ensue,
I bless the avenging hand that lays me low.
But on what spot shall fall thine anger's flood,
That has not first been drench'd in Christ's atoning blood?
Sonnet Translated From The French Of M. Desbarreaux
Henry Kirk White
(1)
Poem topics: anger, death, god, heaven, time, head, mercy, face, choice, true, divine, love, I love you, endless, thine, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
<< Sonnet To The River Trent, Written On Recovery From Sickness Poem
Sonnet (what Art Thou, Mighty One! And Where Thy Seat?) Poem>>