Poem by John Newton

Lot in Sodom

How hurtful was the choice of Lot,
Who took up his abode
Because it was a fruitful spot
With them who feared not God!

A pris'ner he was quickly made,
Bereaved of all his store;
And, but for Abraham's timely aid,
He had returned no more.

Yet still he seemed resolved to stay
As if it were his rest;
Although their sins from day to day
His righteous soul distressed.

Awhile he stayed with anxious mind,
Exposed to scorn and strife;
At last he left his all behind,
And fled to save his life.

In vain his sons-in-law he warned,
They thought he told his dreams;
His daughters too, of them had learned,
And perished in the flames.

His wife escaped a little way,
But died for looking back:
Does not her case to pilgrims say,
Beware of growing slack?

Yea; Lot himself could ling'ring stand,
Though vengeance was in view;
'Twas mercy plucked him by the hand,
Or he had perished too.

The doom of Sodom wilt be ours
If to the earth we cleave;
Lord quicken all our drowsy pow'rs,
To flee to thee and live. 

1. The Disciples at Sea
2. Joy and Peace in Believing
3. On One Stone Shall Be Seven Eyes
4. Quiet, Lord, My Froward Heart
5. Pleading for Mercy

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