Acts of Contrition

Miserable Wretch that I am, that I should begin so early to offend my Creatour, and sin so much, in so short a time!

Lord I fear, I never yet throughly considered, how evil, and how bitter a thing it is to depart from Thee, O make me every day, more and more sensible of the errour of my ways, and of my own Infinite vileness!

Miserable wretch that I am, that ever I should commit those sins which expose me to all the vials of Thy wrath; to all the Curses of Thy Law, to all Thy Judgments temporal, or spiritual in this life, and to all the Horrors, and despair; and torments of the Damned, in the life to come!

Miserable wretch that I am, that ever I should transgress that Law of Thine, O God, which is so Just, and Holy, and good, and perfect, and so condescending to my infirmities; and in keeping of which there are so great, so Unconceivable Rewards!

O that with Mary Magdalene, I could weep much and love much, having so much to be forgiven!

O Gracious Lord, look on me, as Thou didst on Peter, and let Thy Compassionate look so pierce my heart, that I may weep bitterly for my sins.

O Lord God, Break this hard heart, for Thou only canst do it, and melt it into tears of Contrition! Miserable wretch that I am, that I should sin so much and yet grieve so little!

Wo is me, Miserable wretch, wo is me, that ever I should offend so Indulgent, so Liberal, so tender a Father!

Wo is me, that ever I should repay the infinite love, and the intolerable Sufferings of my Saviour for me, with Nothing but those sins, which occasioned those very sufferings!

Wo is me, that ever I should grieve the Holy Spirit, by rejecting so many of His good Motions, from whom only, I derive Grace and Consolation!

O Lord God, every slight worldly trouble, is apt to draw plenty of tears from mine eyes, but when I should weep for my sins, which are the greatest calamities that can possibly befal me, either my eyes are dry, or my tears too few, to bewail so many Provocations!

O Blessed Spirit, instil true penitent sorrow into my soul, Make my Head Waters, and my Eyes Fountains of tears, Or do Thou supply the want of them, with sighs and groans Unutterable!

But alas, I know all the tears I can possibly shed, can never wash away the least of my sins, 'Tis Thy blood only, Lord, that can do it!

O Blessed Saviour, how can I ever sufficiently lament the guilt of my sins, which was so great, that nothing but Thy own inestimable bloud could expiate!

O Heavenly Father, in the defect of my own tears, I offer Thee the bloud, of Thy own well-beloved Son, for His sake, Have mercy upon me. Amen, Amen.