When first to make my heart his own, The Lord revealed his mighty grace; Self reigned, like Dagon, on the throne, But could not long maintain its place. | It fell, and owned the pow’r divine, (Grace can with ease the vict’ry gain) But soon this wretched heart of mine, Contrived to set it up again. | Again the LORD his name proclaimed, And brought the hateful idol low; Then self, like Dagon, broken, maimed, Seemed to receive a mortal blow. | Yet self is not of life bereft, Nor ceases to oppose his will; Though but a maimed stump be left, ’Tis Dagon, ’tis an idol still. | Lord! must I always guilty prove, And idols in my heart have room? Hos 14:8 Oh! let the, fire of heavenly love, The very slump of self consume. | |