From the Gadsby Hymnal

Hail, sovereign love, that first began

The scheme to rescue fallen man!

Hail, matchless, free, eternal grace,

That gave my soul a hiding-place!

Against the God who rules the sky

I fought with hand uplifted high;

Despised the mention of his grace,

Too proud to seek a hiding-place.

But thus the eternal counsel ran:

"Almighty love, arrest that man!"

I felt the arrows of distress,

And found I had no hiding-place.

Indignant Justice stood in view;

To Sinai's fiery mount I flew;

But Justice cried, with frowning face,

"This mountain is no hiding place!"

Ere long a heavenly voice I heard,

And Mercy's angel-form appeared;

She led me on with placid pace,

To Jesus, as my Hiding-place.

Should storms of seven-fold thunder roll,

And shake the globe from pole to pole,

No flaming bolt could daunt my face,

For Jesus is my Hiding-place.

On him almighty vengeance fell,

That must have sunk a world to hell;

He bore it for a chosen race,

And thus became their Hiding-place.

A few more rolling suns at most,

Will land me on fair Canaan's coast,

Where I shall sing the song of grace,

And see my glorious Hiding-place.

Jehoiada Brewer (1752-1817)