Augustus Montague Toplady (Огастус Монтегю Топледи)

* * *

Encompassed with clouds of distress,
Just ready all hope to resign,
I pant for the light of Thy face,
And fear it will never be mine;
Disheartened with waiting so long,
I sink at Thy feet with my load;
All plaintive I pour out my song,
And stretch forth my hands unto God.

Shine, Lord, and my terror shall cease;
The blood of atonement apply;
And lead me to Jesus for peace,
The Rock that is higher than I;
Speak, Savior, for sweet is Thy voice,
Thy presence is fair to behold;
Attend to my sorrows and cries,
My groanings that cannot be told.

If sometimes I strive as I mourn,
My hold of Thy promise to keep,
The billows more fiercely return,
And plunge me again in the deep;
Harassed and cast out from Thy sight,
The tempter suggests with a roar,
"The Lord has forsaken thee quite;
Thy God will be gracious no more."

Yet, Lord, if Thy love hath designed
No covenant blessing for me,
Ah, tell me, how is it I find
Some pleasure in waiting for Thee?
Almighty to rescue Thou art;
Thy grace is my only resource:
If e’er Thou art Lord of my heart,
Thy Spirit must take it by force.

1. Fountain of Never Ceasing Grace
2. When Languor and Disease Invade
3. Your Harps, Ye Trembling Saints
4. Amplest Grace in Thee I Find
5. Lord, Save Us, We Perish

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