CONTRITION.
Reading edition
The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.—Psalm xxxiv. 18.
The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and a contrite heart, O God, Thou wilt not despise.—Psalm li. 17.
Thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy; I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones.—Isaiah, lvii. 15.
To this man will I look, even to him that is poor and of a contrite spirit, and trembleth at my word.—Isaiah, lxvi. 2.
Fruits of more pleasing savour from thy seed Sown with contrition in his heart, than those Which, his own hand manuring, all the trees Of Paradise could have produced. Milton.
I, who have gone so far and long astray, Adding to primal guilt the mountains high Of trespass day by day, as if to try Thy long forbearance, still for mercy pray; For mercy even yet. Look ere thou slay, Great God! upon my tears; look where I lie Repentant; give, O give, before I die, Thy grace, and guide my feet into thy way. Reveal thy sufferings, thy blood and sweat: Short is my time; reveal thy bitter cross To my dark eyes, all used to other sight. Quench, O my God! all that unhallowed heat Of former life, which now I count but loss: Lord, thou hast ne’er despised a heart contrite. From the Italian of Gabriel Fiamma.
Where sad contrition harbours, there the heart Is truly acquainted with the secret smart Of past offences, hates the bosom sin The most, which most the soul took pleasure in; No crime unsifted, no sin unpresented Can lurk unseen, and seen, none unlamented; The troubled soul’s amazed with dire aspects Of lesser sins committed, and detects The wounded conscience; it cries amain For mercy—mercy; cries, and cries again. It sadly grieves, and soberly laments, It yearns for grace, reforms, returns, repents. Aye, this is incense whose accepted savour Mounts up the heavenly throne, and findeth favour: Aye, this it is whose valour never fails— With God it stoutly wrestles and prevails: Aye, this it is that pierces heaven above, Never returning home, (like Noah’s dove,) But brings an olive leaf, or some increase, That works salvation and eternal peace. Quarles.
All powerful is the penitential sigh Of true contrition; like the placid wreaths Of incense, wafted from the righteous shrine Where Abel ministered, to the blest seat Of Mercy, an accepted sacrifice, Humiliation’s conscious plaint ascends. Samuel Hayes.
Lord! who art merciful as well as just, Incline thine ear to me, a child of dust! Not what I would, O Lord! I offer thee, Alas! but what I can. Father Almighty, who hast made me man, And bade me look to heaven, for thou art there, Accept my sacrifice and humble prayer. Four things which are not in my treasury, I lay before thee, Lord, with this petition:— My nothingness, my wants, My sins, and my contrition. Southey, imitated from the Persian.
O, my soul! thy lost condition Brought the gentle Saviour low! Hast thou felt one hour’s contrition For those sins that pierced him so? Dost thou bear the love thou owest For such proof of grace divine? Can’st thou answer,—Lord thou knowest That this heart is wholly Thine? C. Bowles.