No prophet, nor dreamer of dreams,
No master of plausible speech,
To live like an angel who seems,
Or like an apostle to preach;
No tempter, without or within,
No spirit, tho’ ever so bright,
That comes crying out against sin,
And looks like an angel of light;

Tho’ reason, tho’ fitness he urge,
Or plead with the words of a friend,
Or wonders of argument forge,
Or deep revelations pretend,
Should meet with a moment’s regard,
But rather be boldly withstood,
If any thing, easy or hard,
He teach, save the Lamb and His blood.

Remember, O Chris­tian, with heed,
When sunk under sentence of death,
How first thou from bondage wast freed;
Say, was it by works, or by faith?
On Christ thy affections then fixed,
What conjugal truth didst thou vow!
With Him was there any thing mixed?
Then what wouldst thou mix with Him now?

If close to the Lord thou wouldst cleave,
Depend on His promise alone;
His right­eous­ness wouldst thou receive,
Then learn to renounce all thy own;
The faith of a Chris­tian indeed
Is more than mere notion or whim;
United to Je­sus, his head,
He draws life and virtue from Him.

Deceived by the father of lies,
Blind guides cry, Lo here! and Lo there!
By these our Re­deem­er us tries,
And warns us of such to beware.
Poor comfort to mourners they give,
Who set us to labor in vain;
And strive, with a Do this and live
To drive us to Egypt again.

But what says our Shepherd divine?
For His blessèd word we should keep;
This flock has My Fa­ther made Mine,
I lay down My life for My sheep;
’Tis life ev­er­last­ing I give,
My blood was the price that it cost;
Not one that on Me shall believe,
Shall ever be finally lost.

This God is the God we adore,
Our faithful, unchangeable friend,
Whose love is as large as His power,
And neither knows measure nor end;
’Tis Je­sus, the first and the last,
Whose Spir­it shall guide us safe home;
We’ll praise Him for all that is past,
And trust Him for all that’s to come.