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1 On the brink of fi'ry ruin,
Justice, with a flaming sword,
Was my guilty soul pursuing
When I first beheld my Lord.
2 Terrify'd with Sinai's thunder,
Straight I flew to Calvary,
Where I saw with love and wonder,
Hi by faith who died for me.
3 "Sinner," he exclaim'd, "I've lov'd thee
With an everlasting love;
Justice has in me approv'd thee;
Thou shalt dwell with me above."
4 Sweet as angels' notes in heaven,
When to golden harps they sound,
Is the voice of sins forgiven,
To the soul by satan bound.
5 Sweet as angels' harps in glory,
Was that heavenly voice to me,
When I saw my Lord before me
Bleed and die to set me free!
6 Saints, attend with holy wonder!
Sinners, hear and sing his praise!
'Tis the God that holds the thunder
Shows himself the God of grace!
Source: Hymns, Selected and Original: for public and private worship (1st ed.) #358
First Line: | On the brink of fiery ruin |
Author: | Swain |
Copyright: | Public Domain |