Scripture Verse

The very hairs of your head are all numbered. Matthew 10:30


Words: Charles Wes­ley (1707–1788). Ap­peared in The Un­pub­lished Po­et­ry of Charles Wes­ley, by S. T. Kim­brough, Jr., & Ol­iv­er A. Beck­er­leg­ge (Nash­ville, Ten­nes­see: Ab­ing­don Press, 1992), pag­es 169–70. In Wes­ley’s ma­nu­script, the hymn had this note: Thanks­giv­ing for one nar­row­ly es­caped as­sas­sin­a­tion—Mr. Tho­mas Stokes.

Music: Hua­chu­ca James W. Mill­er, 1918 (🔊 pdf nwc).

Alternate Tunes:

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

Charles Wesley


Let eve­ry tongue my Sav­ior praise
Who for His ser­vant cares,
And watch­es ov­er all my ways,
And num­bers all my hairs;
In dan­ger’s un­sus­pect­ed hour
Who hides my life above,
And saves from the des­troy­er’s pow­er
The ob­ject of His love.

Thou on­ly dost the rage re­strain
Of my in­fer­nal foe,
And armed with death, be­yond his chain
Th’as­sas­sin cannot go;
The fa­tal weapon can­not speed—
A wall of brass with­stands,
And an­gels hov­er round my head,
And bear me in their hands.

A bird es­caped the fowl­er’s snare,
A brand out of the fire,
My kind De­liv­er­er I de­clare,
My guard­ia­n God ad­mire;
A pledge of great­er mer­cies still
My ran­somed life re­ceive,
And live to serve Thy bless­èd will,
And to Thy glo­ry live.

For this Thou didst my soul al­lure
With ear­ly tastes of grace,
In health pre­serve, in sick­ness cure,
And res­cue in dis­tress:
For this Thou hast my man­ners borne,
And spared from year to year,
Nor let me quite to sin re­turn,
Or quite throw off Thy fear.

I now as from the grave re­stored,
By mira­cle di­vine,
Enter i­nto Thy coun­sel, Lord,
And an­swer Thy de­sign;
For heav­en­ly joys at last com­pelled
With earth­ly things to part,
Lover of souls, I yield, I yield,
I give Thee all my heart!