Though Troubles Assail And Dangers Affright, Though

Amazing Grace! How Sweet The Sound That Saved A Wretch Like Me! I Once Was Lost But Now Am Found, Was Blind But Now I See.

I Am Not What I Ought To Be! Ah! How Imperfect And Deficient! - I Am Not What I Wish To Be! I 'abhor What Is Evil,' And I Would 'cleave To What Is Good!' - I Am Not What I Hope To Be! Soon, Soon, I Shall Put Off Mortality: And With Mortality All Sin And Imperfection! Yet, Though I Am Not What I Ought To Be, Nor What I Wish To Be, Nor What I Hope To Be, I Can Truly Say, I Am Not What I Once Was - A Slave To Sin And Satan; And I Can Heartily Join With The Apostle, And Acknowledge; By The Grace Of God, I Am What I Am!

The Midsummer Sun Shines But Dim, The Fields Strive In Vain To Look Gay; But When I Am Happy In Him December's As Pleasant As May.

What Will It Profit A Man If He Gains His Cause And Silences His Adversary If At The Same Time He Loses That Humble, Tender Frame Of Spirit In Which The Lord Delights, And To Which The Promise Of His Presence Is Made?

Every Drop Of Rain Hits Its Appointed Target.