English poem
The Hiding-place
by Elizabeth Singer Rowe (1674–1737)
1. HAIL sovereign love that first began The scheme to rescue fallen man; Hail matchless free eternal grace That gave my soul a hiding-place.
2. Against the God that rules the skies, I fought with hands uplifted high; Despised the mansions of his grace, Too proud to seek a hiding-place.
3. Enwrapt in dark Egyptian night, And fond of darkness more than light; Madly I ran the sinful race, Secure without a hiding-place.
4. But lo! the eternal council ran, Almighty love arrest the man: I felt the arrows of distress, And found I had no hiding-place.
5. Vindictive Justice stood in view, To Sinai's fiery mount I slew; But Justice cried, with frowning face, This mountain is no hiding place.
6. But lo a heavenly voice I heard, And Mercy's Angel soon appear'd; She led me on a pleasing pace, To Jesus as my hiding place.
7. Should storms of seven fold thunder roll, And shake the globe from pole to pole, No thunder-bolts should daunt my face, For Jesus is my hiding place.
8. On him Almighty vengeance fell, Which must have crush'd a world to hell, He bore it for his chosen race, And thus became my hiding place.
9. A few more rolling suns at most Will land me on fair Canaan's coast, Where I shall sing the song of grace, And see my glorious hiding place.