L. M. A song of praise to God the Redeemer. 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. |