1 Father, I sing thy wond'rous grace,
I bless my Savior's name;
He bought salvation for the poor,
And bore the sinner's shame.
2 His deep distress hath rais'd us high,
His duty and his zeal
Fulfill'd the law which mortals broke,
And finish'd all thy will.
3 His dying groans, his living songs,
Shall better please my God,
Than harp or trumpet's solemn sound,
Than goat's or bullock's blood.
4 This shall his humble follow'rs see,
And set their hearts at rest;
They by his death draw near to thee,
And live for ever blest.
5 Let heav'n and all that dwell on high,
To God their voices raise,
While lands and seas assist the sky,
And join t' advance the praise.
6 Zion is thine, most holy God;
Thy Son shall bless her gates,
And glory purchas'd by his blood
For thy own Isr'el waits.
Text Information | |
---|---|
First Line: | Father, I sing thy wond'rous grace |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1790 |
Scripture: | |
Notes: | Part 3 |