Our Father in Heaven (Sonnet 8)

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"Forgive us our trespasses."

THY holy law, our Father, just and true,
Holds us for trespass in its stern duress:
For deep defaults in truth and righteousness,
Its claims our burdened, bonded souls pursue.
And daily we our trespasses renew,
While hope of self-acquittal still grows less,
Till terrors sway us with unpitying stress,
Of sins unpardoned, and of debts long due.

Fainting with fear, we raise the plaintive cry,
"Father, forgive these debts we cannot pay,
And lift us, helpless, out of sin's dark prison."
Our Father hears; and He, in love, draws nigh,
Points to His Son, Who bore sin's curse away,--
And, lo! the day-star of our peace is risen!