OUT OF THE DEPTHS

Reach thy hand to me, O Jesus;

Reach thy loving hand to me,

Or I sink, alas, and perish

In my sin and agony.

From the depths I cry, O Jesus,

Lifting up mine eyes to thee;

Save me from my sin and sorrow

With thy loving charity.

Pity, Jesus — blessed Savior;

I am weak, but thou art strong;

Fill my heart with prayer and praises,

Fill my soul with holy song.

Lift me up, O sacred Jesus —

Lift my bruised heart to thee;

Teach me to be pure and holy

As the holy angels be.

Scribes and Pharisees surround me:

Thou art writing in the sand:

Must I perish, Son of Mary?

Wilt thou give the stern command?

Am I saved?— for Jesus sayeth —

“Let the sinless cast a stone.”

Lo the Scribes have all departed,

And the Pharisees are gone!

“Woman, where are thine accusers?”

( They have vanished one by one. )

“Hath no man condemned thee, woman?”

And she meekly answered — “None.”

Then he spake His blessed answer —

Balm indeed for sinners sore —

“Neither then will I condemn thee:

Go thy way and sin no more.”