Text: | Hymn 161 |
Author: | Isaac Watts |
Strait is the way, the door is strait,
That leads to joys on high;
'Tis but a few that find the gate,
While crowds mistake, and die.
Beloved self must be denied,
The mind and will renewed
Passion suppressed, and patience tried,
And vain desires subdued.
[Flesh is a dangerous foe to grace,
Where it prevails and rules;
Flesh must be humbled, pride abased,
Lest they destroy our souls.
The love of gold be banished hence,
That vile idolatry,
And every member, every sense,
in sweet subjection lie.]
The tongue, that most unruly power,
Requires a strong restraint;
We must be watchful every hour,
And pray, but never faint.
Lord, can a feeble, helpless worm
Fulfil a task so hard?
Thy grace must all my work perform,
And give the free reward.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Strait is the way, the door is strait |
Title: | Hymn 161 |
Author: | Isaac Watts |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1806 |