The Refuge, River, and Rock of the Church by John Newton

He who on earth as man was known,

And bore our sins and pains;

Now, seated on th' eternal throne,

The God of glory reigns.

His hands the wheels of nature guide

With an unerring skill;

And countless worlds extended wide,

Obey his sovereign will.

While harps unnumbered sound his praise,

In yonder world above;

His saints on earth admire his ways,

And glory in his love.

His righteousness, to faith revealed,

Wrought out for guilty worms,

Affords a hiding place and shield,

From enemies and storms.

This land, through which his pilgrims go,

Is desolate and dry;

But streams of grace from him o'erflow

Their thirst to satisfy.

When troubles, like a burning sun,

Beat heavy on their head;

To this almighty Rock they run,

And find a pleasing shade.

How glorious he! how happy they

In such a glorious friend!

Whose love secures them all the way,

And crowns them at the end.