Ye Souls That Fear The Lord Come Listen

Ye souls that fear the Lord,
Come, listen while I tell,
How narrowly my feet escaped
The snares of death and hell.

The shattering joys of sense
Assailed my foolish heart,
While Satan, with malicious skill,
Guided the poisonous dart.

I fell beneath the stroke,
But fell to rise again;
My anguish roused me into life,
And pleasure sprung from pain.

Darkness, and shame, and grief
Oppressed my gloomy mind;
I looked around me for relief,
But no relief could find.

At length to God I cried;
He heard my plaintive sigh,
He heard, and instantly he sent
Salvation from on high.

My drooping head he raised,
My bleeding wounds he healed,
Pardoned my sins, and with a smile
The gracious pardon sealed.

O! may I ne’er forget
The mercy of my God;
Nor ever want a tongue to spread
His loudest praise abroad.

The Christian’s duty, exhibited in a series of hymns,