by John Newton
The castle of the human heart
Strong in its native sin;
Is guarded well, in every part,
By him who dwells within.
For Satan there, in arms, resides,
And calls the place his own;
With care against assaults provides,
And rules, as on a throne.
Each traitor thought on him, as chief,
In blind obedience waits;
And pride, self-will, and unbelief,
Are posted at the gates.
Thus Satan for a season reigns,
And keeps his goods in peace;
The soul is pleased to wear his chains,
Nor wishes a release.
But Jesus, stronger far than he,
In his appointed hour
Appears, to set his people free
From the usurper's pow'r.
This heart I bought with blood, he says,
And now it shall be mine;
His voice the strong one armed dismays,
He knows he must resign.
In spite of unbelief and pride,
And self, and Satan's art;
The gates of brass fly open wide,
And Jesus wins the heart.
The rebel soul that once withstood
The Saviour's kindest call;
Rejoices now, by grace subdued,
To serve him with her all.
Last updated January 14, 2019