Scripture Verse

Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Matthew 6:13

Introduction

Words: Charles Wes­ley, Hymns and Sac­red Po­ems 1740.

Music: An­gel­us Ge­org Joseph, Heil­ige Seel­en­lust od­er Geist­liche Hirt­en-Lied­er (Bres­lau, Ger­ma­ny [now Wro­cław, Po­land]: 1657) (set to the words Du mein­er Seel­en güld­ne Ziehr) (🔊 pdf nwc).

Alternate Tune:

If you know where to get a good pic­ture of Jo­seph (head & shoul­ders, at least 200×300 pix­els),

portrait
Charles Wesley (1707–1788)

Anecdote

Joseph Tay­lor, Mis­sion­ary Sec­re­ta­ry 1818–20, and Pre­si­dent of the Con­fer­ence in 1834, was sent out as a mis­sion­ary to the West Ind­ies in 1803 by Dr. Coke, and would oft­en in lat­er life quote…Oft hath the sea con­fessed Thy pow­er, as he re­ferred to the dan­gers and af­flic­tions of those event­ful years.

Zachary Mac­au­lay…says this hymn scarce ev­er re­curs to my mind with­out caus­ing it to swell with grate­ful re­Col­lect­ion.

Telford, p. 109

Lyrics

God of my life, whose gracious power
Through varied deaths my soul hath led,
Or turned aside the fatal hour,
Or lifted up my sinking head!

In all my ways Thy hand I own,
Thy ruling providence I see:
Assist me still my course to run,
And still direct my paths to Thee.

On Thee my helpless soul is cast,
And looks again Thy grace to prove;
I call to mind the wonders past,
The countless wonders of Thy love.

Thou, Lord, my spirit oft has stayed,
Hast snatched me from the gaping tomb,
A monument of Thy mercy made,
And rescued me from wrath to come.

Oft hath the sea confessed Thy power,
And gave me back to Thy command;
It could not, Lord, my life devour,
Safe in the hollow of Thine hand.

Oft from the margin of the grave
Thou, Lord, hast lifted up my head;
Sudden I found Thee near to save;
The fever owned Thy touch, and fled.

But O! The mightier work of grace,
That still the life of faith I live,
That still I pant to sing Thy praise,
That still my all I gasp to give.

Plucked from the roaring lion’s teeth,
Caught up from the eter­nal fire,
Snatched from the gates of hell I breathe,
And lo! to Hea­ven I still aspire!

Whither, oh whither should I fly,
But to my loving Sav­ior’s breast;
Secure within Thine arms to lie,
And safe beneath Thy wings to rest!

I feel the fiery trial near,
But Thou, my God, art still the same;
Hell, earth, and sin I scorn to fear,
Divinely armed with Je­su’s name.

I have no skill the snare to shun,
But Thou, O Christ, my wisdom art;
I ever into ruin run:
But Thou art greater than my heart.

I have no might t’oppose the foe,
But ev­er­last­ing strength is Thine.
Show me the way that I should go;
Show me the path I should decline.

Which shall I leave, and which pursue?
Thou only mine advisor be;
My God, I know not what to do;
But Oh! mine eyes are fixed on Thee.

Foolish, and impotent, and blind,
Lead me a way I have not known;
Bring me where I my heaven may find,
The heaven of loving Thee alone.

Enlarge my heart to make Thee room;
Enter, and in me ever stay;
The crooked then shalt straight become:
The darkness shall be lost in day!