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Poem by John Newton
A Brand Plucked out of the Fire
With Satan, my accuser, near My spirit trembled when I saw The Lord in majesty appear, And heart the language of the law. In vain I wish'd and strove to hide The tatter'd, filthy rags I wore; While my fierce foe insulting cry'd See what you trusted in before! Struck dumb, and left without a plea, I heard my gracious Saviour say, Know Satan, I this sinner free, I died to take his sin away. This is a brand which I, in love, To save from wrath and sin design! In vain thy accusations prove; I answer all, and call him mine. At his rebuke the tempter fled; Then he remov'd my filthy dress; Poor sinner, take this robe, he said, It is thy Saviour's rightousness. And see, a crown of life prepar'd! That I might thus my head adorn; I thought no shame or suff'ring hard, But wore for thee a crown of thorn. O how I heard these gracious words! They broke and heal'd my heart at once; Constrained me to become the Lord's, And all my idol-gods renounce. Now, Satan, thou hast lost thy aim, Against this brand thy threats are vain; JESUS has pluck'd it from the flame, And who shall put it in again?
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