John Newton

(24 July 1725 – 21 December 1807 / London, England)

John Newton Poems

41. The Lord Will Provide 4/19/2010
42. The Lord Is My Portion 4/19/2010
43. The Lodestone 4/19/2010
44. The Little Book 4/19/2010
45. The Leper 4/19/2010
46. The Legion Dispossessed 4/19/2010
47. The Joy Of The Lord Is Your Strength 4/19/2010
48. The Inward Warfare 4/19/2010
49. The Importunate Widow 4/19/2010
50. The Hiding Place 4/19/2010
51. The Heart Taken 4/19/2010
52. The Great Tribunal 4/19/2010
53. The Gourd 4/19/2010
54. The Good That I Would I Do Not 4/19/2010
55. The Good Samaritan 4/19/2010
56. The Good Physician 4/19/2010
57. The Golden Calf 4/19/2010
58. The Garden 4/19/2010
59. The Foolish Virgins 4/19/2010
60. The Exorcists 4/19/2010
61. The Effort 4/19/2010
62. The Disciples At Sea 4/19/2010
63. The Death Of Stephen 4/19/2010
64. The Day Of Judgement 1/3/2003
65. The Creatures In The Lord's Hands 4/19/2010
66. The Change 4/19/2010
67. The Borrowed Axe 4/19/2010
68. The Book Of Creation 4/19/2010
69. The Blasted Fig-Tree 4/19/2010
70. The Bitter Waters 4/19/2010
71. The Believer's Safety (Ii) 4/19/2010
72. The Believer's Safety 4/19/2010
73. The Believer's Danger, Safety, And Duty 4/19/2010
74. The Beggar 4/19/2010
75. The Barren Fig-Tree 4/19/2010
76. That Rock Was Christ 4/19/2010
77. Smyrna 4/19/2010
78. Saul's Armor 4/19/2010
79. Saturday Evening 1/3/2003
80. Satan Returning 4/19/2010
Best Poem of John Newton

Amazing Grace

Amazing grace! (how sweet the sound!)
That sav'd a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found;
Was blind, but now I see.

'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,
And grace my fears reliev'd;
How precious did that grace appear,
The hour I first believ'd!

Thro' many dangers, toils, and snares,
I have already come;
'Tis grace has brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home.

The Lord has promis'd good to me,
His word my hope secures;
He will my shield and portion be,
As long as life endures.

Yes, when this flesh ...

Read the full of Amazing Grace

On Dreaming

When slumber seals our weary eyes,
The busy fancy wakeful keeps;
The scenes which then before us rise,
Prove something in us never sleeps.

As in another world we seem,
A new creation of our own,
All appears real, though a dream,
And all familiar, though unknown.

[Hata Bildir]