Now to the Lord, who makes us know

The wonders of his dying love,

Be humble honors paid below,

And strains of nobler praise above.

2 ’Twas he who cleansed us from our sins,

And washed us in his precious blood;

’Tis he who makes us priests and kings,

And brings us, rebels, near to God.

3 To Jesus, our atoning Priest,

To Jesus, our eternal King,

Be everlasting power confessed;

Let every tongue his glory sing.

4 Behold, on flying clouds he comes,

And every eye shall see him move;

Though with our sins we pierced him once,

Now he displays his pardoning love.

5 The unbelieving world shall wail,

While we rejoice to see the day:

Come, Lord, nor let thy promise fail,

Nor let the chariot long delay.