1 Come, ye that fear the Lord,
And listen while I tell,
How narrowly my feet escap'd
The snares of death and hell.
2 The flatt'ring joy of sense
Assail'd my foolish heart,
While Satan, with malicious skill,
Guided the pois'nous dart.
3 I fell beneath the stroke,
But fell to rise again,
My anguish rous'd me into life,
And pleasure sprung from pain.
4 Darkness, and shame, and grief
Oppress'd my gloomy mind;
I look'd around me for relief,
But no relief could find.
5 At length, to God I cry'd;
He heard my plaintive sigh,
He heard, and instantly he sent
Salvation from on high.
6 My drooping head he rais'd,
My bleeding wounds he heal'd,
Pardon'd my sins, and with a smile
The gracious pardon seal'd.
7 O may I ne'er forget
The mercy of my God;
Nor ever want a tongue to spread
His loudest praise abroad.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Come, ye that fear the Lord |
Title: | Praise for Conversion |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1803 |