303    7s     C. Wesley
Tempted; but Flying to Christ the Refuge. Ps. 57. 1

1 Jesus, Lover of my soul,
  While the raging billows roll,
  While the tempest still is high.
  Hide me, O my Saviour, hide,
  Till the storm of life is past;
  Safe into the haven guide;
  O receive my soul at last!

2 [Other refuge have I none,
  Hangs my helpless soul on thee;
  Leave, ah! leave me not alone;
  Still support and comfort me.
  All my trust on thee is stayed;
  All my help from thee I bring;
  Cover my defenceless head
  With the shadow of thy wing.]

3 Thou, O Christ, art all I want;
  All in all in thee I find;
  Raise the fallen, cheer the faint,
  Heal the sick, and lead the blind.
  Just and holy is thy name;
  I am all unrighteousness;
  Vile and full of sin I am;
  Thou art full of truth and grace;

4 Plenteous grace with thee is found;
  Grace to pardon all my sin;
  Let the healing streams abound;
  Make and keep me pure within.
  Thou of life the Fountain art;
  Freely let me take of thee;
  Spring thou up within my heart,
  Rise to all eternity.