1 Poor, weak and worthless, though I am,
I have a rich almighty friend;
Jesus, the Saviour, is his name,
He freely loves, and without end.
2 He ransom'd me from hell with blood;
And, by his power, my foes controll'd:
He found me wandering far from God,
And brought me to His chosen fold.
3 But, ah! my inmost spirit mourns;
And well my eyes with tears may swim,
To think of my perverse returns:--
I’ve been a faithless friend to him.
4 Often my gracious friend I grieve,
Neglect, distrust, and disobey;
And often Satan’s lies believe
Sooner than all my friend can say.
5 Sure, were I not most vile and base,
I could not thus my friend requite!
And were not He the God of grace,
He’d frown and spurn me from his sight.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Poor, weak, and worthless, though I am |
Meter: | L. M. |
Publication Date: | 1828 |
Topic: | Names and Characters of Christ: Friend |
Notes: | Public Domain. |