1 All you that love the Lord draw near,
To my complaint pray lend as Ear,
And help me to condole my Grief,
For I'm distret by Unbelief.
2 Sometimes I'm such a stupid Clod
I doubt the existence of a G O D;
But still his Terrors work my Grief,
While Hope is drown'd in Unbelief.
3 When thus I'm sore distrest all day,
When evening comes I fain would pray,
And beg for Pardon, and Relief;
But there's no G O D:" says Unbelief.
4 But who did all things first create?
Was it not G O D, the Wise and Great?
While thus I would asswage my Grief,
You have no Soul:" says Unbelief.
5 But then I make this quick Reply,
What makes me then afraid to die,
And after Death to dread the Grief
Which I must have for Unbelief?
6 Besides the S A V I O U R came to die,
The Souls of Men to purify;
Which clearly proves for our Relief,
That Men have Souls, O Unbelief!
7 Blest be my G O D, that now I see
That J E S U S gave himself for me;
I'll praise his Name, who bore my Grief,
And saves my Soul from Unbelief.
|First Line:||All you that love the Lord draw near|
|Topic:||Fall of Man, or Depravity of Human Nature|