WHEN fears arise and trials oppress To test our faith and love, ’Tis sweet to think on all the grace That lifts our souls above.
Sweet to reflect how grace divine My sins on Jesus laid; Sweet to remember that His blood My debt of sufferings paid.
Sweet in His righteousness to stand, Which saves from second death; Sweet to experience, day by day, His Spirit’s quickening breath.
Sweet on His covenant of grace, For all things to depend; Sweet on His faithfulness to rest, Whose love can never end.
Sweet to rejoice in lively hope, That, when my end shall come, Angels will hover round my bed, And take my spirit home.
There shall my disembodied soul Behold Him and adore; Be with His likeness clothed upon, And grieve and sin no more.
If such the sweetness of the stream, What must the fountain be? Where saints and angels draw their bliss Directly, Lord, from Thee!
From: ‘When langour and disease invade,’ Augustus Montague Toplady, 1740-78