My Refuge Is the God of Love

My re­fuge is the God of love;

Why do my foes in­sult and cry

Fly like a ti­mor­ous

trem­bling dove

To dist­ant woods or mount­ains fly?

If gov­ern­ment be all de­stroyed

That firm foun­da­tion of our peace

And vio­lence make jus­tice void

Where shall the right­eous seek re­dress?

The Lord in Heav’n has fixed His throne

His eye sur­veys the world be­low;

To Him all mor­tal things are known

His eye­lids search our spir­its through.

If He af­flicts His saints so far

To prove their love and try their grace

What may the bold trans­gress­ors fear?

His ve­ry soul ab­hors their ways.

On im­pi­ous wretch­es He shall rain

Tempests of brim­stone

fire and death;

Such as He kin­dled on the plain

Of Sodom with His ang­ry breath.

The right­eous Lord loves right­eous souls

Whose thoughts and act­ions are sin­cere;

And with a gra­cious eye be­holds

The men that His own im­age bear.