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Anne Steele

Where Shall I Fly But To Thy Feet

in Anne Steele Collection

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Where shall I fly but to thy feet,
My Saviour, my almighty friend?
Dear names, beyond expression sweet!
On these my hopes of bliss depend.

Where shall I rest but on thy grace,
Thy boundless grace divinely free?
On earth I find no resting place;
Dear Saviour, bid me come to thee!

Though sin detains me from my Lord,
I long, I languish to be blest:
O speak one soul reviving word,
And bid me come to thee, my rest.

When I this wretched heart explore,
Here no kind source of hope appears;
But O my soul, that grace adore,
Free grace, which triumphs o’er my fears.

Jesus, from thy atoning blood,
My only consolation flows;
Hope beams from thee my Saviour God,
My soul no other refuge knows.


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    Blessy Christlin

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      Where Shall I Fly But To Thy Feet

      Where shall I fly but to thy feet,
      My Saviour, my almighty friend?
      Dear names, beyond expression sweet!
      On these my hopes of bliss depend.

      Where shall I rest but on thy grace,
      Thy boundless grace divinely free?
      On earth I find no resting place;
      Dear Saviour, bid me come to thee!

      Though sin detains me from my Lord,
      I long, I languish to be blest:
      O speak one soul reviving word,
      And bid me come to thee, my rest.

      When I this wretched heart explore,
      Here no kind source of hope appears;
      But O my soul, that grace adore,
      Free grace, which triumphs o’er my fears.

      Jesus, from thy atoning blood,
      My only consolation flows;
      Hope beams from thee my Saviour God,
      My soul no other refuge knows.