Is this thy kindness to thy friend by John Newton

Poor, weak and worthless though I am

I have a rich almighty Friend;

Jesus, the Savior, is His Name;

He freely loves, and without end.

He ransomed me from hell with blood,

And by His power my foes controlled;

He found me wandering far from God,

And brought me to His chosen fold.

He cheers my heart, my wants supplies,

And says that I shall shortly be,

Enthroned with Him above the skies;

O what a Friend is Christ to me!

But, ah! my inmost spirit mourns;

And well my eyes with tears may swim,

To think of my perverse returns:

I’ve been a faithless friend to Him.

Often my gracious Friend I grieve,

Neglect, distrust, and disobey;

And often Satan’s lies believe

Sooner than all my Friend can say.

He bids me always freely come,

And promises whate’er I ask:

But I am straitened, cold and dumb,

And count my privilege a task

Before the world that hates His course,

My treach’rous heart has throbbed with shame;

Loath to forego the worlds applause,

I hardly dare avow His Name.

Sure, were I not most vile and base,

I could not thus my Friend requite!

And were not He the God of grace,

He’d frown and spurn me from His sight.