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Hymn 27

John Newton


Bitter and sweet.

Kindle, Savior, in my heart

A flame of love divine;

Hear, hear, for mine I trust thou art,

And sure I would be thine:

If my soul has felt thy grace,

If to me thy name is known;

Why should trifles fill the place,

Due to thyself alone.

’Tis a strange mysterious life

I live from day to day;

Light and darkness, peace and strife,

Bear an alternate sway;

When I think the battle won

I have to fight it o’er again;

When I say I’m overthrown,

Relief I soon obtain.

Often at the mercy–seat

While calling on thy name;

Swarms of evil thoughts I meet,

Which fill my soul with shame.

Agitated in my mind,

Like a feather in the air;

Can I thus a blessing find?

My soul, can this be prayer?

But When CHRIST, my LORD and Friend,

Is pleased to show his pow’r;

All at once my troubles end,

And I’ve a golden hour:

343 Then I see his smiling face,

Feel the pledge of joys to come;

Often, LORD, repeat this grace

Till thou shalt call me home.

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