The Exorcists
Then the apostle wonders wrought,
And healed the sick, in Jesus' name;
The sons of Sceva vainly thought
That they had pow'r to do the fame.
On one possessed they tried their art,
And naming Jesus preached by Paul,
They charged the spirit to depart
Expecting he'd obey their call.
The spirit answered, with a mock,
Jesus I know; and Paul I know;
I must have gone if Paul had spoke;
But who are ye that bid me go?
With fury then the man he filled,
Who on the poor pretenders flew;
Naked and wounded, almost killed,
They fled in all the peoples' view.
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poem by John Newton
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Is This Thy Kindness To Thy Friend (Christ A Redeemer And Friend)
Poor, weak and worthless though I am
I have a rich almighty friend;
Jesus, the Saviour, is His Name;
He freely loves, and without end.
He ransomed me from hell with blood,
And by His pow'r my foes controlled;
He found me wand'ring far from God,
And brought me to His chosen fold.
He cheers my heart, my wants supplies,
And says that I shall shortly be,
Enthroned with Him above the skies;
O what a friend is Christ to me!
But ah! I my inmost spirit mourns,
And well my eyes with tears may swim,
To think of my perverse returns;
I've been a faithless friend to him.
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poem by John Newton
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Gideon's Fleece
The signs which God to Gideon gave,
His holy Sovereignty made known;
That He alone has pow'r to save,
And claims the glory as his own.
The dew which first the fleece had filled,
When all the earth was dry around;
Was from it afterwards withheld,
And only fell upon the ground.
To Israel thus the heavenly dew
Of saving truth was long restrained;
Of which the Gentiles nothing knew,
But dry and desolate remained.
But now the Gentiles have received
The balmy dew of gospel peace
And Israel, who his spirit grieved,
Is left a dry and empty fleece.
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poem by John Newton
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The Woman Of Samaria
Jesus, to what didst thou submit
To save thy dear-bought flock from hell!
Like a pour trav'ller see him sit,
Athirst, and weary, by the well.
The woman who for water came,
What great events on small depend
Then learnt the glory of his name,
The Well of life, the sinner's Friend!
Taught from her birth to hate the Jews,
And filled with party-pride; at first
Her zeal induced her to refuse
Water, to quench the Saviour's thirst.
But soon she knew the gift of God,
And Jesus, whom she scorned before,
Unasked, that drink on her bestowed,
Which whoso tastes shall thirst no more.
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poem by John Newton
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On Dreaming
When slumber seals our weary eyes,
The busy fancy wakeful keeps;
The scenes which then before us rise,
Prove something in us never sleeps.
As in another world we seem,
A new creation of our own,
All appears real, though a dream,
And all familiar, though unknown.
Sometimes the mind beholds again
The past day's business in review,
Resumes the pleasure or the pain;
And sometimes all we meet is new.
What schemes we form, what pains we take!
We fight, we run, we fly, we fall;
But all is ended when we wake,
We scarcely then a trace recall.
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poem by John Newton
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Dwelling In Mesech
What a mournful life is mine,
Fill with crosses, pains and cares!
Every work defiled with sin,
Every step beset with snares!
If alone I pensive fit,
I myself can hardly bear;
If I pass along the street,
Sin and riot triumph there.
Jesus! how my heart is pained,
How it mourns for souls deceived!
When I hear thy name profaned,
When I see thy Spirit grieved!
When thy children's griefs I view,
Their distress becomes my own;
All I hear, or see, or do,
Makes me tremble, weep and groan.
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poem by John Newton
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The Change
Saviour shine and cheer my soul,
Bid my dying hopes revive;
Make my wounded spirit whole,
Far away the tempter drive:
Speak the word and set me free,
Let me live alone to thee.
Shall I sigh and pray in vain,
Wilt thou still refuse to hear;
Wilt thou not return again,
Must I yield to black despair?
Thou hast taught my heart to pray,
Canst thou turn thy face away?
Once I thought my mountain strong,
Firmly fixed no more to move;
Then thy grace was all my song,
Then my soul was filled with love:
Those were happy golden days,
Sweetly spent in prayer and praise.
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poem by John Newton
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Ask What I Shall Give Thee (II)
If Solomon for wisdom prayed,
The Lord before had made him wise;
Else he another choice had made,
And asked for what the worldlings prize.
Thus he invites his people still,
He first instructs them how to choose;
Then bids them ask whate'er they will,
Assured that He will not refuse.
Our wishes would our ruin prove,
Could we our wretched choice obtain;
Before we feel the Saviour's love,
Kindle our love to him again.
But when our hearts perceive his worth,
Desires, till then unknown, take place;
Our spirits cleave no more to earth,
But pant for holiness and grace.
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poem by John Newton
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Cain And Abel
When Adam fell he quickly lost
God's image, which he once possessed:
See All our nature since could boast
In Cain, his first-born Son, expressed!
The sacrifice the Lord ordained
In type of the Redeemer's blood,
Self-righteous reas'ning Cain disdained,
And thought his own first-fruits as good.
Yet rage and envy filled his mind,
When, with a fallen, downcast look,
He saw his brother favor find,
Who God's appointed method took.
By Cain's own hand, good Abel died,
Because the Lord approved his faith;
And, when his blood for vengeance cried,
He vainly thought to hide his death.
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poem by John Newton
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A Friend That Sticketh Closer Than A Brother
One there is, above all others,
Well deserves the name of friend;
His is love beyond a brother's,
Costly, free, and knows no end:
They who once his kindness prove,
Find it everlasting love!
Which of all our friends to save us,
Could or would have shed their blood?
But our Jesus died to have us
Reconciled, in him to God:
This was boundless love indeed!
Jesus is a friend in need.
Men, when raised to lofty stations,
Often know their friends no more;
Slight and scorn their poor relations
Though they valued them before.
But our Saviour always owns
Those whom he redeemed with groans.
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poem by John Newton
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