My Hiding Place

The following poem was written in 1780 during the American Revolution. The poet was Major John Andre a British spy captured while working with Benedict Arnold to surrender the American fort at West Point, New York to the British. Arnold was the commander at West Point and when the plot unraveled, he escaped to a waiting British warship and Major John Andre faced the hangman's noose. This poem was found in his uniform pocket after his hanging.

My Hiding Place by Major John Andre
Hail, sovereign love, which first began
The scheme to rescue fallen man!
Hail, matchless, free, eternal grace,
That gave my soul a Hiding Place!
Against the God who built the sky,
I fought with hands uplifted high,
Despised the mention of His grace,
Too proud to seek a Hiding Place.
Enwrapt in thick Egyptian night,
And fond of darkness more than light,
Madly I ran the sinful race,
Secure without a Hiding Place.
But thus the eternal counsel ran:
"Almighty love, arrest that man!"
I felt the arrows of distress,
And found I had no hiding place.
Indignant Justice stood in view.
To Sinai's fiery mount I flew;
But Justice cried, with frowning face:
"This mountain is no hiding place."
Ere long a heavenly voice I heard,
And Mercy's angel soon appeared;
He led me with a beaming face,
To Jesus, as a Hiding Place.
On Him almighty vengeance fell,
Which must have sunk a world to hell.
He bore it for a sinful race,
And thus became their Hiding Place.
Should sevenfold storms of thunder roll,
And shake this globe from pole to pole,
No thunderbolt shall daunt my face,
For Jesus is my Hiding Place.
A few more setting suns at most,
Shall land me on fair Canaan's coast,
Where I shall sing the song of grace,
And see my glorious Hiding Place.