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~Jesus, Lover Of My Soul (1)


       Charles Wesley was conducting one of his many open-air meetings, this one near Killyleagh, Ireland. During the course of his preaching, a number of persons who took exception to his views assaulted him. Unable to withstand the mob, Wesley fled for his life.

       He took refuge in a farmhouse nearby. Jane Moore, a kind-hearted wife of a farmer, hid the panting evangelist in the milk house. She was barely in time, because at that moment some of Wesley’s assailants rushed up.

       Mrs. Moore tried to divert their attention by preparing refreshments. Fearful that they might search the premises and discover the harried evangelist, she went to the milk house on the pretext of getting a cold drink for her visitors.

       Quickly, she bade him, get through the rear window, and hide under the hedge. He clambered through the window and found a little brook flowing beside the hedge, forming a pool with overhanging branches that afforded a pleasant and safe retreat.

       While waiting for the vindictive Irishmen to give up the search and leave, Wesley pulled a pencil and paper from his pocket and wrote out the immortal hymn, Jesus, Lover of My Soul.

       Dr. George Duffield, author of Stand up for Jesus, another of our famous songs, once said of Wesley’s hymn, If there is anything in Christian experience of joy and sorrow, of affliction and prosperity, of life and death—that hymn truly is the hymn of the ages.

—E. H. Jordan



Jesus, Lover of My Soul


(1) Jesus, lover of my soul,

Let me to Thy bosom fly,

While the nearer waters roll,

While the tempest still is high.

Hide me, O my Savior, hide,

'Til the storm of life is past;

Safe into the haven guide,

O receive my soul at last!


(2) Other refuge have I none,

Hangs my helpless soul on Thee;

Leave, O leave me not alone,

Still support and comfort me.

All my trust on Thee is stayed,

All my help from Thee I bring;

Cover my defenseless head

With the shadow of Thy wing.


(3) Plenteous grace with Thee is found,

Grace to cover all my sin;

Let the healing streams abound,

Make and keep me pure within.

Thou of life the fountain art,

Freely let me take of Thee;

Spring Thou up within my heart,

Rise to all eternity.


~Jesus, Lover Of My Soul (2)

       In “The Last Hymn,” by Marianne Farningham, the people in a little Welch community were coming out of the church at sunset and saw a storm raging out on the ocean. Then to their horrified gaze they see a large ship falling and rising on the billows, drawn toward the rocky coast.

       As they watch, unable to rescue, the ship strikes the rocks and breaks in the middle. Half of it soon goes down. Then they saw only one figure left, clinging on a spar, moving closer to the land, but impossible to be reached.

       Someone asked the preacher to take the trumpet and to call something of comfort.

       He thinks quickly—what would he say? Then the call went out: “Look to Jesus! Can you hear?”

       “Ay, ay, sir!” was the shout back, as they hear him singing, “Jesus, lover of my soul.”

       As the people walked soberly home, they said to one another that he went to be with Jesus, in the singing of the hymn.







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