C. Wesley

7.7.7.7.D.

JESUS, Lover of my soul,

Let me to Thy bosom fly,

While the nearer waters roll,

While the tempest still is high:

Hide me, O my Saviour, hide,

Till the storm of life is past;

Safe into the haven guide,

Oh, receive my soul at last.

2

Other refuge have I none,

Hangs my helpless soul on Thee;

Leave, ah! leave me not alone,

Still support and comfort me:

All my trust on Thee is stayed;

All my help from Thee I bring;

Cover my defenceless head

With the shadow of Thy wing.

3

Thou, O Christ, art all I want;

More than all in Thee I find:

Raise the fallen, cheer the faint,

Heal the sick, and lead the blind.

Just and holy is Thy name;

I am all unrighteousness:

False and full of sin I am;

Thou art full of truth and grace.

4

Plenteous grace with Thee is found;

Grace to cover all my sin;

Let the healing streams abound,

Make and keep me pure within:

Thou of life the fountain art,

Freely let me take of Thee:

Spring Thou up within my heart,

Rise to all eternity.