Text: | The Hiding Place |
Author: | Herbert |
1 Amidst the sorrows of the way,
Lord Jesus, teach my soul to pray;
And let me taste thy special grace,
And run to Christ, my Hiding-place.
2 Thou know’st the vileness of my heart,
So prone to act the rebel’s part;
And when thou veil’st thy lovely face,
Where can I find a hiding-place?
3 Lord, guide my silly, wandering feet,
And draw me to thy mercy-seat.
I’ve nought to trust but sovereign grace;
Thou only art my Hiding-place.
4 O how unstable is my heart!
Sometimes I take the tempter’s part,
And slight the tokens of thy grace,
And seem to want no hiding-place.
5 But when thy Spirit shines within,
And makes me feel the plague of sin;
Then how I long to see thy face!
’Tis then I want a hiding-place.
6 Lord Jesus, shine, and then I can
Feel sweetness in salvation’s plan;
And as a sinner, plead for grace,
Through Christ, the sinner’s Hiding-place.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Amidst the sorrows of the way |
Title: | The Hiding Place |
Author: | Herbert |
Meter: | L. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1844 |