1 Help, Lord, to whom for help I fly,
And still my tempted soul stand by,
Throughout the evil day;
The sacred watchfulness impart,
And keep the issues of my heart,
And stir me up to pray.
2 My soul with thy whole armour arm,
In each approach of sin alarm,
And shew the danger near;
Surround, sustain, and strengthen me,
And fill with godly jealosuy,
And sanctifying fear.
3 Whene'er my careless hands hang down,
O let me see thy gath'ring frown,
And feel thy warning eye:
And starting cry, from ruin's brink,
Save, Jesus, or I yield, I sink!
O save me, or I die!
4 If near the pit I rashly stray,
Before I wholly fall away,
The keen conviction dart!
Recall me by that pitying look,
That kind, upbraiding glance which broke
Unfaithful Peter's heart.
5 In me thine utmost mercy shew,
And make me like thy self below,
Unblameable in grace;
Ready prepar'd and fitted here,
By perfect holiness t' appear
Before thy glorious face.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Help, Lord, to whom for help I fly |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1791 |
Topic: | Petition |