Oppressed with unbelief and sin,
Fightings without, and fears within;
While earth and hell, with force combined,
Assault and terrify my mind.

What strength have I against such foes,
Such hosts and legions to oppose?
Alas! I tremble, faint, and fall,
Lord save me, or I give up all.

Thus sorely pressed I sought the Lord,
To give me some sweet cheering word;
Again I sought, and yet again,
I waited long, but not in vain.

O! 'twas a cheering word indeed!
Exactly suited to my need;
Sufficient for thee is my grace,
Thy weakness my great pow'r displays.

Now despond and mourn no more,
I welcome all I feared before;
Though weak I'm strong, though troubled blest,
For Christ's own pow'r shall on me rest.

My grace would soon exhausted be,
But his is boundless as the sea;
Then let me boast with holy Paul,
That I am nothing, Christ is all.

More verses by John Newton

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