A Brand Plucked Out of the Fire

With Satan, my accuser, near, My spirit trembled when I saw The Lord in majesty appear, And heard the language of his law.

In vain I wish’d and strove to hide The tatter’d filthy rags I wore: While my fierce foe insulting cried, “See what you trusted in before!”

Struck dumb, and left without a plea, I heard my gracious Saviour say, “Know, Satan, I this sinner free— I died to take his sins away.

“This is a brand which I in love To save from wrath and sin design; In vain thy accusations prove; I answer all, and claim him mine.”

At this rebuke the tempter fled; Then He removed my filthy dress; “Poor sinner, take this robe,” He said, “It is thy Saviour’s righteousness.

“And see a crown of life prepared! That I might thus thy head adorn; I thought no shame of suff’ring hard, But wore for thee a crown of thorn.”

O, how I heard these gracious words! They broke and heal’d my heart at once; Constrained me to become the Lord’s, And all my idol-gods renounce.

Now, Satan, thou hast lost thy aim; Against this brand thy threats are vain; Jesus has pluck’d it from the flame, And who shall put it in again?