1 O could I find some peaceful bow'r,
Whee sin has neither place nor pow'r;
This traitor vile, I fain would shun,
But cannot from his presence run.
2 When to the throne of grace I flee,
He stands between my God and me,
Where'er I rove, where'er I rest,
I feel him working in my breast.
3 When I attempt to soar above,
To view the heights of Jesus' love;
This monster seems to mount the skies,
And veils his glory to mine eyes.
4 Lord, free me from this deadly foe,
Which keeps my faith and hope so low;
I long to dwell in heaven, my home,
Where not one sinful thought can come.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | O could I find some peaceful bow'r |
Meter: | L. M. |
Publication Date: | 1828 |
Topic: | Christian experience: Doubts and Fears; Hating Sin |
Notes: | Public Domain. |