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On the sure faithful arm divine
Firm let thy fastening trust recline.
The gentlest Sire, the best of friends,
To thee, nor loss nor harm intends;
Though tost on the most boisterous main,
No wreck thy vessel shall sustain.
Should there remain of rescuing grace
No glimpse, no shadow left to trace,
Hear thy Lord's voice, ""Tis Jesus' will"
Believe, thou dark lost pilgrim, still!

Then, thy sad night of terrors past,
Though the dread season long may last,
Sweet peace shall from the smiling skies,
Like a new dawn before thee rise;
Then shall thy faith's firm grounds appear,
Its
eyes shall view salvation clear.

Be hence encouraged more, when tried
On thy best Father to confide.

Oh! my too blind but nobler part,
Be moved! Be won by these, my heart ;-

See of how rich a lot, how blest,

The true believer stands possest.

Come, backward soul, to God resign;
Peace, his best blessing, shall be thine
Boldly recumbent on his care,

Cast thy full burden only there.

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LORD, turn not thy face away
From him that lies prostrate;

Lamenting sore his sinful life,
Before Thy Mercy-gate;

Which Thou dost open wide for those
That do lament their sin:

O shut it not against me, Lord,

But let me enter in.

Call me not to a strict account,

How I have lived here;

For then, I know right well, O Lord,

Most vile I shall appear.

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