Help, Lord, to Whom for Help I Fly

Help, Lord, to whom for help I fly,
And still my tempted soul stand by,

Help, Lord, to whom for help I fly,
And still my tempted soul stand by,
Throughout the evil day;
The sacred watchfulness impart,
And keep the issues of my heart,
And stir me up to pray.

My soul with thy whole armour arm;
In each approach of sin alarm,
And show the danger near;
Surround, sustain, and strengthen me,
And fill with godly jealousy,
And sanctifying fear.

Whene’er my careless hands hang down,
O let me see thy gathering frown,
And feel thy warning eye;
And starting cry from ruin’s brink
Save, Jesus, or I yield, I sink,
O save me, or I die!

If near the pit I rashly stray,
Before I wholly fall away,
The keen conviction dart!
Recall me by that pitying look,
That kind, upbraiding glance, which broke
Unfaithful Peter’s heart.

In me thine utmost mercy show,
And make me like thyself below,
Unblamable in grace;
Ready prepared, and fitted here,
By perfect holiness, to appear
Before thy glorious face.