1 My Savior, if to thee
With all my strength I flee,
Will danger die?
Thou didst for Peter pray,
While fiends around his way,
Like vultures o’er their prey
Exulting cry.
2 Each day I seem beset
With bristling bayonet,
And strength is fled;
My foes without, within,
Like giants armed to win,
And goading on to sin,
And hope is dead.
3 O Christ! oh, help divine!
Stronger than strength of wine,
Help me to win!
To win my manhood back,
Give all the force I lack
To drive from off my track
This vampyre, sin.
4 And if this trembling form
Can stand beyond the storm,
Close by the throne,
I’ll sing of love divine,
Stronger than love of wine,
Which saved this soul of mine,
By grace alone.
Source: Good Will: A collection of New Music for Sabbath Schools and Gospel Meetings (Enlarged) #125b