Henry Francis Lyte (1 June 1793 - 20 November 1847 / Scotland)
There Is a Safe and Secret Place
There is a safe and secret place,
Beneath the wings divine,
Reserved for all the heirs of grace;
O be that refuge mine!
The least and feeblest there may bide,
Uninjured and unawed;
While thousands fall on every side,
He rests secure in God.
He feeds in pastures, large and fair,
Of love and truth divine,
O child of God, O glory’s heir,
How rich a lot is thine!
A hand almighty to defend,
An ear for every call,
An honored life, a peaceful end,
And heaven to crown it all!
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