HAD not the Lord, my soul may cry,

HAD not the Lord, my soul may cry, Had not the Lord been on my side; Had He not brought deliverance nigh, Then must my helpless soul have died,

Had not the Lord been on my side, My soul had been by Satan slain; And Tophet, opening large and wide, Would not have gaped for me in vain.

Lo, floods of wrath, and floods of hell, In fierce impetuous torrents roll; Had not the Lord defended well, The waters had o'erwhelm'd my soul.

As when the fowler's snare is broke, The bird escapes on cheerful wings; My soul, set free from Satan's yoke, With joy bursts forth, and mounts, and sings.

She sings the Lord her Saviour's praise; Sings forth His praise with joy and mirth; To Him her song in heaven she'll raise, To Him that made both heaven and earth! John Ryland,