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Text: | Hell, the Sinner's own Place |
Author: | Ryland, junior |
1 Lord when I read the traitor's doom,
To "his own place" consin'd,
What holy fear and humble hope
Alternate fill my mind!
2 Traitor to thee I too have been,
But sav'd by matchless grace,
Or else the lowest, hottest hell
Had surely been my place.
3 Thither I was by law adjudg'd,
And thitherward rush'd on;
And there in my eternal doom
Thy justice might have shone.
4 But lo! (what wondrous, matchless love!)
I call a place my own
On earth within the gospel sound
And at thy gracious throne.
5 A place is mine among thy saints,
A place at Jesu's feet,
And I expect in heaven a place
Where saints and angels meet.
6 Blest lamb of God, thy sovereign grace
To all around I'd tell,
Which made a place in glory mine,
Whose just desert was hell.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Lord, when I read the traitor's doom |
Title: | Hell, the Sinner's own Place |
Author: | Ryland, junior |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1792 |
Scripture: | |
Topic: | Hell; Hell: The sinner's own place |