A poem by William Cowper

To keep the lamp alive,
With oil we fill the bowl;
‘Tis water makes the willow thrive,
And grace that feeds the soul.

The Lord’s unsparing hand
Supplies the living stream;
It is not at our own command,
But still derived from him.

Beware of Peter’s word,[1]
Nor confidently say,
“I never will deny thee, Lord,”
But, “Grant I never may!”

Man’s wisdom is to seek
His strength in God alone;
And e’en an angel would be weak,
Who trusted in his own.

Retreat beneath his wings,
And in his grace confide;
This more exalts the King of kings[2]
Than all your works beside.

In Jesus is our store,
Grace issues from his throne;
Whoever says, “I want no more,”
Confesses he has none.

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