1 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.
2 Behold a God descends and dies,
To save my soul from gaping hell!
How the black gulf where Satan lies,
Yawn'd to receive me when I fell!
3 How justice frown'd, and veng'ance stood,
To drive me down to endless pain!
But the great Son propos'd his blood,
And heav'nly wrath grew mild again.
4 Infinite Lover! Gracious Lord!
To thee be endless honours giv'n;
Thy wondrous name shall be ador'd
Round the wide earth, and wider heav'n.
Text Information | |
---|---|
First Line: | Let the old heathens tune their song |
Title: | A song of praise to God the Redeemer |
Meter: | L. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1793 |
Notes: | Now Public Domain. |