1 My refuge is the God of love;
Why do my foes insult and cry,
"Fly like a tim'rous trembling dove,
To distant woods or mountains fly?"
2 If government be all destroy'd,
(This firm foundation of our peace)
And violence make justice void,
Where shall the righteous seek redress?
3 The Lord in heav’n has fix'd his throne,
His eye surveys the world below:
To him all mortal things are known;
His eye-lids search our spirits through.
4 If he afflicts his saints so far,
To prove their love and try their grace,
What may the bold transgressors fear?
His soul abhors their wicked ways.
5 On impious wretches he shall rain
Sulphurous flames of wasting death,
Such as he kindled on the plain
Of Sodom, with his angry breath.
6 The righteous Lord loves righteous souls,
Whose thoughts and actions are sincere,
And with a gracious eye beholds
The men that his own image bear.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | My refuge is the God of love |
Title: | God loves the Righteous, and hates the Wicked |
Meter: | Long Metre |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1793 |