John Newton (1725-1807)

I asked the Lord that I might grow
In faith and love and every grace,
Might more of His salvation know
And seek more earnestly His face.

'Twas He who taught me thus to pray,
But it has been in such a way
As almost drove me to despair.

I hoped that in some favor'd hour,
At once He'd answer my request,
And by His love's constraining power
Subdue my sins and give me rest.

Instead of this, He made me feel
The hidden evils of my heart,
And let the angry powers of hell
Assault my soul in every part.

Yea more, with His own hand he seem'd
Intent to aggravate my woe,
Cross'd all the fair designs I schemed,
Blasted my gourd and laid me low.

Lord, why is this, I trembling cried,
Wilt Thou pursue Thy worm to death?

It is in this way, the Lord replied,
I answer prayer for grace and faith,
These inward trials I employ,
From self and pride to set thee free;
And brake thy schemes of earthly joy,
That thou may'st seek thy all in me.