Weak Believers Encouraged. Ps. 27. 14; Isa. 49. 23
A. M. Toplady S.M.
1
Your harps, ye trembling saints,
Down from the willows take;
Loud to the praise of Christ our Lord,
Bid every string awake.
2
Though in a foreign land,
We are not far from home;
And nearer to our house above,
We every moment come.
3
His grace shall to the end,
Stronger and brighter shine;
Nor present things, nor things to come,
Shall quench the spark divine.
4
The time of love will come,
When we shall clearly see,
Not only that he shed his blood,
But each shall say, “For me.”
5
Tarry his leisure, then;
Wait the appointed hour;
Wait till the Bridegroom of your souls
Reveal his love with power.
6
[Blest is the man, O God,
Whose mind is stayed on thee;
Who waits for thy salvation, Lord,
Shall thy salvation see.]
