Out Of The Depths
It makes the wounded spirit whole,
And
calms the troubled breast;
'Tis manna to the hungry soul,
And to the
weary rest.
Dear Name! the Rock on which I build
My Shield and
Hiding-place;
My never-failing Treasury fill'd
With boundless stores of
grace.
By Thee my prayers acceptance gain,
Although with sin
defiled;
Satan accuses me in vain,
And I am own'd a child.
Jesus! my Shepherd, Husband, Friend,
My Prophet, Priest, and King;
My Lord, my Life, my Way, my End,
Accept the praise I bring.
Weak is the effort of my heart,
And cold my warmest thought;
But
when I see Thee as Thou art,
I'll praise Thee as I ought.
Till then
I would Thy love proclaim
With every fleeting breath;
And may the music
of Thy Name
Refresh my soul in death!
-preacher John Newton
Comments