HYMN 21
L. M.
A song of praise to God the Redeemer.
417 Let the old heathens tune their song Of great Diana and of Jove; But the sweet theme that moves my tongue Is my Redeemer and his love. | Behold, a God descends and dies To save my soul from gaping hell: How the black gulf where Satan lies Yawned to receive me when I fell! | How justice frowned, and vengeance stood To drive me down to endless pain! But the great Son proposed his blood, And heav'nly wrath grew mild again. | Infinite Lover! gracious Lord! To thee be endless honors giv'n; Thy wondrous name shall be adored Round the wide earth and wider heav'n. | |