1 This world is all enchanted ground,
O whither shall I fly?
The vengeful flames are kindling round,
And if I stop, I die.
2 When some kind hand has brought me forth,
How lingering is my pace!
Lord, either drive me by Thy wrath,
Or draw me by Thy grace.
3 O let me not a moment waste,
On this destructive plain;
Hence let me flee with greater haste,
Till I the Zoar gain.
|First Line:||This world is all enchanted ground|
|Title:||This World Is All Enchanted Ground|
|Author:||Benjamin Beddome, 1717-1795|
|Source:||Appeared posthumously in Hymns Adapted to Public Worship (London: Burton and Briggs,1818)|
|Source:||Scottish Psalter, 1615|
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|Noteworthy Composer score:||Noteworthy Composer Score|