Acts 9:3: An. whither will ye fly

An. whither will ye fly
Ye sheep of Jesus' fold?
The death approaching ni
The slaughtering wolf behold:
He comes besmear'd with Stephen's blood
To martyr all the saints of God.

Now, now he read' is
To spring upon his prey,
The helpless flock to seize,
And rend, and tear, and slay!
Lord what shall stop his headlong r
And save Thy wasted heritage?

A word, a look from Thee
Can make the savage tame,
Disarm his crueltj
And change him to a lamb,
in strike opposers to the ground
And all Thy church's foes confound.

Thou them in their distress
I )idsi at Damascus , e,
That we when men oppress
Full confidence may have,
Rest in the fold, and safe from harm
Depend on Thine unshorten'd arm.

He doth not seek the light,
Or labour or inquire,
It shines into his deepest night
Preventing his desire;
Not waiting for his call
It stops his mad career:
And thus the grace which ransoms all
Doth once to all appear.

It visits us unsought
That first celestial ray,
Preventing every serious thought
And every wish to pray
We no advances make
To meet the God unknown,
Till mercy doth our souls attack
And seizes for its own.