When the work of grace is done—
Partner of my throne shalt be,
Say, poor sinner, lov’st thou me?”
VI
Lord, it is my chief complaint,
That my love is weak and faint;
Yet I love thee and adore,
Oh for grace to love thee more?
119
Another
By Newton
I
’Tis a point I long to know,
Oft it causes anxious thought—
Do I love the Lord, or no?
Am I his, or am I not?
II
If I love, why am I thus?
Why this dull, this lifeless frame?
Hardly sure can they be worse
Who have never heard his name!
III
Could my heart so hard remain,
Pray’r a task and burden prove,
Every trifle give me pain,
If I knew a Saviour’s love?
IV
When I turn my eyes within,
All is dark and vain and wild:
Fill’d with unbelief and sin,
Can I deem myself a child?
V
If I pray or hear or read,
Sin is mix’d with all I do;
You that love the Lord indeed,
Tell me, is it thus with you?
VI
Yet I mourn my stubborn will,
Find my sin a grief and thrall:
Should I grieve for what I feel,
If I did not love at all?
VII
Could I joy his saints to meet,
Choose the ways I once abhorr’d,
Find, at times, the promise sweet,
If I did not love the Lord?
VIII
Lord, decide the doubtful case!
Thou who art thy people’s sun,
Shine upon thy work of grace,
If it be indeed begun.
IX
Let me love thee more and more,
If I love at all, I pray;
If I have not loved before,
Help me to begin to-day.
120
The Death of Stephen
By Newton
Acts 7:54–60.
I
As some tall rock amidst the waves
The fury of the tempest braves,
While the fierce billows, tossing high,
Break at its foot, and murm’ring, die:
II
Thus they who in the Lord confide,
Though foes assault on every side,
Cannot be moved or overthrown,
For Jesus makes their cause his own.
III
So faithful Stephen, undismay’d,
The malice of the Jews survey’d;
The holy joy which fill’d his breast,
A lustre on his face impress’d.
IV
“Behold,” he said, “the world of light
Is open’d to my strengthened sight;
My glorious Lord appears in view,
That Jesus whom ye lately slew.”
V
With such a friend and witness near,
No form of death could make him fear;
Calm, amidst showers of stones, he kneels,
And only for his murderers feels.
VI
May we by faith perceive thee thus,
Dear Saviour, ever near to us!
This sight our peace through life shall keep,
And death be fear’d no more than sleep.
121
The Rebel’s Surrender to Grace.–Lord, What Wilt Thou Have Me to Do?
By Newton
Acts 9:6.
I
Lord, thou hast won—at length I yield—
My heart, by mighty grace compell’d,
Surrenders all to thee;
Against thy terrors long I strove,
But who can stand against thy love?
Love conquers even me.
II
All that a wretch could do I tried—
Thy patience scorn’d, thy power defied,
And trampled on thy laws:
Scarcely thy martyrs at the stake
Could stand more steadfast for thy sake
Than I in Satan’s cause.
III
But since thou hast thy love reveal’d,
And shown my soul a pardon seal’d,
I can resist no more:
Couldst thou for such a sinner bleed?
Canst thou for such a rebel plead?
I wonder and adore!
IV
If thou hadst bid thy thunders roll,
And lightnings flash, to blast my soul,
I still had stubborn been;
But mercy has my heart subdued—
A bleeding Saviour I have view’d,
And now I hate my sin.
V
Now, Lord, I would be thine alone;
Come, take possession of thine own,
For thou hast set me free:
Released from Satan’s hard command,
See all my powers waiting stand
To be employed by thee.
VI
My will conform’d to thine would move;
On thee, my hope, desire, and love,
In fix’d attention join;
My hands, my eyes, my ears, my tongue,
Have Satan’s servants been too long,
But now they shall be thine.
VII
And can I be the very same
Who lately durst blaspheme thy name,
And on thy gospel tread?
Surely each one who hears my case
Will praise thee and confess thy grace
Invincible indeed!
122
Peter Released from Prison
By Newton
Acts 12:5–8.
I
Fervent persevering prayers
Are faith’s assured resource;
Brazen gates and iron bars
In vain withstand their force:
Peter, when in prison cast,
Though by soldiers kept with care,
Though the doors were bolted fast,
Was soon released by prayer.
II
While he slept, an angel came,
And spread a light around,
Touch’d and call’d him by his name,
And raised him from the ground:
All his chains and fetters burst,
Every door wide open flew;
Peter thought he dream’d at first,
But found the vision true.
III
Thus the Lord can make a way
To bring his saints relief;
’Tis their part to wait and pray
In spite of unbelief:
He can break through walls of stone,
Sink the mountain to a plain;
They to whom his name is known
Can never pray in vain.
IV
Thus in chains of guilt and sin,
Poor sinners sleeping lie;
No alarm is felt within,
Although condemn’d to die,
Till, descending from above,
(Mercy smiling in his eyes,)
Jesus, with a voice of love,
Awakes, and bids them rise.
V
Glad the summons they obey,
And liberty desire:
Straight their fetters melt away
Like wax before the fire:
By the word of Him who died,
Guilty pris’ners to release,
Every door flies open wide,
And they depart in peace.
123
The Trembling Gaoler
By Newton
Acts 16:29–31.
I
A believer, free from care,
May in chains or dungeons sing,
If the Lord be with him there,
And be happier than a king:
Paul and Silas thus confined,
Though their backs were torn by whips,
Yet, possessing peace of mind,
Sung his praise with joyful lips.
II
Suddenly the prison shook,
Open flew the iron doors;
And the gaoler, terror-struck,
Now his captives’ help implores:
Trembling at their feet he fell,
“Tell me, sirs, what must I do
To be saved from guilt and hell?
None can tell me this but you.”
III
“Look to Jesus,” they
