597 | LM | ||
OFTEN as death with solemn toll, Speaks the departure of a soul, Let us each pause, and ask‘Am I Should I be called, prepared to die?’ |
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2 | Only this frail and fleeting breath Preserves me from the jaws of death; Soon as it fails, at once I’m gone, And plunged into a world unknown. |
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3 | Then, leaving all I love below, To God’s tribunal I must go, Must hear the Judge pronounce my fate, And fix my everlasting state. |
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4 | Lord Jesus, help me now to flee, And seek my hope alone in Thee; Apply Thy blood, Thy Spirit give, Subdue my sin, and let me live. |
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5 | Then, when of someone’s death I hear, If saved from guilt, I need not fear; Nor will the thought distressing be, ‘Next it may call, perhaps for me!’ |
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John Newton, 1725-1807 |