John Newton

John Newton

I Asked the Lord ,That i might grow
In faith,and love,and every grace;
Might ore of His salvation know,
And seek more earnestly His face.

I hoped that in some favoured hour
At once He,d answer my request,
And by His loves constrainingpower
Subdue my sins,and give me rest.

Instead of this,He made me feel
The hidden evils of my heart;
And let the angry powers of hell
Assualt my soul in every part.

Yea more,with His own hand He seemed
Intent to aggravate my woe;
Crossed all fair designs i schemed,
Blasted my gourds,and laid me low.

Lord,why is this?I trembling cried,
Wilt tThou pursue Thy worm to death,
Tis in this way,thev Lord replied,
I answer prayer for grace and faith.

These inward trials I employ
From self and pride to set thee free;
And break thy schemes of earthly joy,
That thou mayst seek thyall in Me.
My Old BibleThough the cover is worn,
And the pages are torn,
And though places bear traces of tears,
Yet more precious than gold
Is this Book worn and old,
That can shatter and scatter my fears.

This old Book is my guide,
'Tis a friend by my side,
It will lighten and brighten my way;
And each promise I find
Soothes and gladdens the mind,
As I read it and heed it each day.

To this Book I will cling,
Of its worth I will sing,
Though great losses and crosses be mine;
For I cannot despair,
Though surrounded by care,
While possessing this blessing Divine.