A Pocket hymn-book, designed as a constant companion for the pious ‎#CLXXIII

CLXXIII. Away, my unbelieving fear!

1 Away, my unbelieving fear!
Fear shall in me no more have place;
My Saviour doth not yet appear,
He hides the brightness of his face:
But shall I therefore let him go,
And basely to the tempter yield?
No, in the strength of Jesus, no,
I never will give up the shield.

2 Although the vine its fruit deny,
Although the olive yield no oil,
The with'ring fig-tree droop and die,
The field elude the tiller's toil,
The empty stall no herd afford,
And perish all the bleating race,
Yet I will triumph in the Lord,
The God of my salvation praise.

3 Barren although my soul remain,
And no one bud of grace appear,
No fruit of all my toil and pain,
But sin, and only sin is here:
Although my gifts and comforts lost,
My blooming hopes cut off I see,
Yet will I win my Saviour trust,
And glory that he dy'd for me.

4 In hope believing against hope,
Jesus, my Lord, my God, I claim,
Jesus, my strength, shall lift me up,
Salvation is in Jesu's name;
To me he soon shall bring it nigh,
My soul shall then out-strip the wind,
On wings of love mount up on high,
And leave the world and sin behind.

Text Information

• First Line: Away, my unbelieving fear!
• Language: English
• Publication Date: 1790
• Topic: Trusting in Providence
• Notes: Tune: DENBIGH

Tune Information

(No tune information)