Out of the depths I cry to Thee, O Lord.@Psalm 130:1
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Catherine Winkworth (1827–1878)

Mar­tin Lu­ther, 1523 (Aus tief­er Noth schrei ich zu dir). Trans­lat­ed from Ger­man to Eng­lish by Ca­the­rine Wink­worth, Ly­ra Ger­ma­ni­ca, 1862, pag­es 69–70, and, in up­dat­ed form, in her Cho­rale Book for Eng­land, 1863, num­ber 40.

Aus Tief­er Not me­lo­dy by Mar­tin Lu­ther, 1524. Ar­ranged in Ge­sang­büch­lein, by Jo­hann Wal­ther, 1524 (🔊 pdf nwc).

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Martin Luther (1483–1546)

[This] is a ver­sion of Psalm cxxx, which Lu­ther called a Paul­ine Psalm, and great­ly loved. He took spe­cial pains with his ve­rsion. It was sung on May 9, 1525, at the fun­er­al of Fried­rich the Wise, in the Court Church at Wit­ten­berg. The peo­ple of Hal­le sang it with tears in their eyes as the great Re­form­er’s cof­fin passed through their ci­ty on the way to the grave at Wit­ten­berg. It is wo­ven in­to the re­li­gious life of Ger­ma­ny.

In 1530, dur­ing the Diet of Aug­sburg, Lu­ther’s heart was oft­en sore trou­bled, but he would say, ‘Come, let us de­fy the de­vil and praise God by sing­ing a hymn.’ Then he would begin, ‘Out of the depths I cry to Thee.’ It was sung at his fun­er­al.

Telford, p. 307

Out of the depths I cry to Thee;
Lord, hear me, I implore Thee!
Bend down Thy gracious ear to me;
I lay my sins before Thee.
If Thou rememberest each misdeed,
If each should have its rightful meed,
Who may abide Thy presence?

Thou grantest pardon through Thy love;
Thy grace alone availeth;
Our works could ne’er our guilt remove;
Yea, e’en the best life faileth.
For none may boast himself of aught,
But must confess Thy grace hath wrought
Whate’er in him is worthy.

And thus my hope is in the Lord,
And not in my own merit;
I rest upon His faithful Word
To them of contrite spirit.
That He is merciful and just,
Here is my comfort and my trust;
His help I wait with patience.

And though it tarry till the night,
And round till morning waken,
My heart shall ne’er mistrust His might,
Nor count itself forsaken.
Do thus, O ye of Israel’s seed,
Ye of the Spirit born indeed,
Wait for our God’s appearing.

Though great our sins and sore our woes,
His grace much more aboundeth;
His helping love no limit knows,
Our utmost need it soundeth;
Our kind and faithful Shepherd, He
Who shall at last set Israel free
From all their sin and sorrow.