1 The Lord into his vineyard comes,
Our various fruit to see;
His eye, more piercing than the light,
Examines ev'ry tree.
2 Tremble ye sinners, at his frown,
If barren still ye stand;
And fear that keenly-wounding ax,
Which arms his awful hand.
3 Lord, we adore thy sparing love,
Thy long-expecting grace:
Else had we low in ruin fall'n,
And known no more our place.
4 Succeeding years thy patience waits;
Nor let it wait in vain:
But form in us abundant fruit,
And still this fruit maintain.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | The Lord into his vineyard comes |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1814 |
Topic: | The Danger and Misery of Sin |