Oft I Reflect Upon Thy Grace
Oft I reflect upon thy grace,
With tears of thankfulness,
Which call’d me from my native place,
The world’s wide wilderness.
My precious time I vainly spent,
Subject to nature’s sway;
My corrupt, carnal will was bent
Its motion to obey.
Thick darkness overspread my mind,
I stumbled in the night,
All my affections were inclin’d
To creaturely delight.
God saw me in this wretched case,
A slave to base desire;
And, by an act of special grace,
The brand pluck’d from the fire.
O may a sense of mercies past,
Stir up my soul to praise;
And whet my appetite to taste,
Thy larger draughts of grace.