Old-Line Primitive Baptist Hymn and Tune Book

817 (L.M.) Samuel Davies

While o'er our guilty land, O Lord,

We view the terrors of Thy sword,

Oh, whither shall the helpless fly?

To whom but Thee direct their cry?

The helpless sinners' cries and tears

Are grown familiar to Thine ears;

Oft has Thy mercy sent relief

When all was fear and hopeless grief.

On Thee, our guardian God, we call;

Before Thy throne of grace we fall;

And is there no deliv'rance there?

And must we perish in despair?

See, we repent, we weep, we mourn,

To our forsaken God we turn;

Oh, spare our guilty country, spare

The Church which Thou hast planted there.

We plead Thy grace, indulgent God,

We plead Thy Son's atoning blood,

We plead Thy gracious promises,

And are they unavailing pleas?

These pleas, presented at Thy throne,

Have brought ten thousand blessings down

On guilty lands in helpless woe;

Let them prevail to save us too.