563
C. M.
My Saviour died for me.
Thou art my hiding-place, O Lord,
In thee I fix my trust,
Encouraged by thy holy word,
A feeble child of dust.
2 I have no argument beside,
I urge no other plea,
And ’tis enough—the Saviour died,
The Saviour died for me.
3 When storms of fierce temptation beat,
And furious foes assail,
My refuge is the mercy-seat,
My hope within the vail.
4 From strife of tongues and bitter words,
My spirit flies to thee;
Joy to my heart the thought affords—
My Saviour died for me.
5 And when thy awful voice commands
This body to decay,
And life, in its last lingering sands,
Is ebbing fast away—
6 Then, though it be in accents weak,
My voice shall call on thee,
And ask for strength in death to speak—
“My Saviour died for me.”
Raffles.