Hymn written by John Newton |
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Begone, unbelief,
My Saviour is near,
And for my relief
Will surely appear;
By prayer let me wrestle,
And He will perform:
With Christ in the vessel
I smile at the storm.
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Though dark be my way,
Since He is my Guide,
'Tis mine to obey,
'Tis His to provide;
Though cisterns be broken,
And creatures all fail,
The word He has spoken,
Shall surely prevail.
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His love in time past
Forbids me to think
He'll leave me at last
In trouble to sink;
Each sweet Ebenezer
I have in review,
Confirms His good pleasure
To help me quite through
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Determined to save,
He watched o'er my path,
When, Satan's blind slave,
I sported with death;
And can He have taught me
To trust in His name,
And thus far have brought me
To put me to shame?
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Why should I complain
Of want or distress;
Temptation or pain?
He told me no less;
The heirs of salvation,
I know from His Word,
Through much tribulation
Must follow their Lord
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How bitter that cup
No heart can conceive,
Which He drank quite up,
That sinners might live!
His way was much rougher
And darker than mine;
Did Jesus thus sufer
And shall I repine?
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Since all that I meet
Shall work for my good
The bitter is sweet,
The med,'cine is food;
Though painful at present,
'Twill cease before long,
And then, oh, how pleasant
The conqueror's song!
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