hiding-place

Hail, sovereign Love, that first began the scheme to rescue fallen man!
Hail, matchless, free, eternal Grace, that gave my soul a hiding place!

Against the God Who rules the sky, I fought, with hand uplifted high
—despised the mention of His grace, too proud to seek a hiding place.

Enwrapped in thick Egyptian night, and fond of darkness, more than light,
madly I ran the sinful race, secure without a hiding place;

but thus th’ eternal counsel ran: Almighty Love, arrest that man!
I felt the arrows of distress, and found I had no hiding place.

Indignant Justice stood in view. To Sinai’s fiery mount I flew;
but Justice cried, with frowning face, This mountain is no hiding place.

Ere long, a heavenly voice I heard; and Mercy’s angel-form appeared,
Who led me on, with gentle pace, to Jesus Christ, my Hiding Place.

On Him Almighty Vengeance fell, that must have sunk a world to hell.
He bore it for a chosen race, and thus became their Hiding Place.

Should storms of sevenfold vengeance roll, and shake this earth from pole to pole,
no flaming bolt could daunt my face—for Jesus is my Hiding Place.

A few more rolling suns, at most, shall land me safe on Heaven’s coast.
Then I shall sing the song of grace to Jesus Christ, my Hiding Place.

—Jehoida Brewer (1752-1817)