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Hymn 1

John Newton



No words can declare,

No fancy can paint,

What rage and despair,

What hopeless complaint,

Fill Satan’s dark dwelling,

The prison beneath;

What weeping and yelling,

And gnashing of teeth!

Yet sinners will choose

This dreadful abode,

Each madly persues

The dangerous road;

Though God give them warning

They onward will go,

They answer with scorning,

And onward do go.

How sad to behold

The rich and the poor,

The young and the old,

All blindly secure!

All posting to ruin,

Refusing to stop;

Ah! think what you’re doing,

While yet there is hope!

How weak is your hand

To fight with the LORD!

How can you withstand

The edge of his sword?

What hope of escaping

For those who oppose,

When hell is wide gaping

To swallow his foes?

How oft have you dared

The Lord to his face!

Yet still you are spared

To hear of his grace;

O pray for repentance

And life–giving faith,

Before the just sentence

Consign you to death.

It is not too late

To JESUS to flee,

His mercy is great,

His pardon is free;

His blood has such virtue

For all that believe,

That nothing can hurt you,

If him you receive.

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