John Newton 8,6,8,6 The flood. Though small the drops of falling rain, If one be singly viewed; Collected, they o'erspread the plain, And form a mighty flood. The house it meets with in its course, Should not he built on clay; Lest, with a wild resistless force, It sweep the whole away. Though for awhile it seemed secure, It will not bear the shock; Unless it has foundations sure, And stands upon a rock. Thus sinners think their evil deeds, Like drops of rain, are small; But it the pow'r of thought exceeds, To count the sum of all. One sin can raise, though small it seems, A flood to drown the soul; What then, when countless million streams Shall join, to swell the whole. Yet, while they think the weather fair, If warned, they smile or frown; But they will tremble and despair, When the fierce flood comes down! O! then on Jesus ground your hope, That stone in Zion laid; Lest your poor building quickly drop, With ruin, on your head. |