Pslam 51
This translation is from the 1662 Book of Common Prayer and is used in Ivor Atkins’ English edition of the Miserere (published by Novello):

Have mercy upon me, O God: after Thy great goodness.
According to the multitude of Thy mercies, do away mine offences.
Wash me thoroughly from my wickedness: and cleanse me from my sin.
For I acknowledge my faults: and my sin is ever before me.
Against Thee only have I sinned, and done this evil in thy sight: that Thou mightest be justified in Thy saying, and clear when Thou art judged.
Behold, I was shapen in wickedness: and in sin hath my mother conceived me.
But lo, Thou requirest truth in the inward parts: and shalt make me to understand wisdom secretly.
Thou shalt purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean: Thou shalt wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.
Thou shalt make me hear of joy and gladness: that the bones which Thou hast broken may rejoice.
Turn Thy face from my sins: and put out all my misdeeds.

Make me a clean heart, O God: and renew a right spirit within me.
Cast me not away from Thy presence: and take not Thy Holy Spirit from me.
O give me the comfort of Thy help again: and stablise me with Thy free Spirit.
Then shall I teach Thy ways unto the wicked: and sinners shall be converted unto Thee.
Deliver me from blood-guiltiness, O God, Thou that art the God of my health: and my tongue shall sing of Thy righteousness.
Thou shalt open my lips, O Lord: and my mouth shall shew [show] Thy praise.
For Thou desirest no sacrifice, else would I give it Thee: but Thou delightest not in burnt-offerings.
The sacrifice of God is a troubled spirit: a broken and contrite heart, O God, shalt Thou not despise.
O be favourable and gracious unto Sion: build Thou the walls of Jerusalem.
Then shalt Thou be pleased with the sacrifice of righteousness, with the burnt-offerings and oblations: then shall they offer young bullocks upon Thine altar.

Today May 1st 2020

After death a grateful feeling comes

My redemption is above me in her study

Ring a ring of roses

Covidspring now Covidsummer

To every season

There is reason

To every moment

An effort at truth

 

Perished fledglings

For which there is no word

A clean heart not enough

Did not wash your hands

Underlying conditions

Delays in operations

Perished fledglings

 

Stabilize us

with your spirit

I,

we,

you.

 

My health shall sing of you

Frontline workers

NHS returners

Bus drivers

Shelf packers

My health shall sing of you

 

A-tishoo! A-tishoo!

Virus deniers and their listeners

Do away with their offences

Wash them thoroughly of their wickedness

They went out to play

A-tishoo! A-tishoo!

 

Politicians decided

But I, we, you, could not be alone

So decided to not

Dial that number on the bridge

 

Intimate partners murdered

Who should have been alone

Children abused

I, We, You,  cannot look

Have mercy that we did not see, act, do

 

Spring is over

 

Shall we mark the graves by the choices which killed them

 

Shall we rise now

We all fell down

A generation consumed

Eating apples of hate

Our sin is ever before us

 

Renew a right spirit within

troubled spirit

broken and contrite heart

In that voice that rises in Miserere*

We hope and keep busy

Our redemption is in everyone

My redemption is above me in her study

Have mercy that we did not see, act, do

1st May 2020

 

 

*At 1:38 seconds in this version to be precise