Here you will find the Poem Dwelling In Mesech of poet John Newton
What a mournful life is mine, Fill with crosses, pains and cares! Every work defiled with sin, Every step beset with snares! If alone I pensive fit, I myself can hardly bear; If I pass along the street, Sin and riot triumph there. Jesus! how my heart is pained, How it mourns for souls deceived! When I hear thy name profaned, When I see thy Spirit grieved! When thy children's griefs I view, Their distress becomes my own; All I hear, or see, or do, Makes me tremble, weep and groan. Mourning thus I long had been, When I heard my Saviour's voice; Thou hast cause to mourn for sin, But in me thou may'st rejoice. This kind word dispelled my grief, Put to silence my complaints; Though of sinners I am chief, He his ranked me with his saints. Though constrained to dwell a while Where the wicked strive and brawl; Let them frown; so he but smile, Heav'n will make amends for all. There, believers, we shall rest, Free from sorrow, sin and fears; Nothing there our peace molests, Through eternal rounds of years. Let us then the fight endure, See our Captain looking down; He will make the conquest sure, And bestow the promised crown.