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Salvation's still my theme!
Salvation full and free!
Jesus, thy precious name
Is paradise to me;
My last, my best, true friend thou art,
Thy precious words revive my heart.
I daily feel my sin,
And groan beneath its weight;
Its filth, and dross, and tin,
Almost obscure my sight;
I wonder that a soul so vile!
Should ever see the Saviour smile.
Were I to hold my peace:
O lift the creature high,
My tongue its praises cease,
And not to Jesus cry,
The worst of mortals I should
Nor could I hope to dwell above.
84. Salvation. C. M.
THE name of Jesus, O how sweet!
How it removes my pain,
Calms the great tumults of my soul,
And makes it all serene.
When of his glorious name I hear,
My rising joys abound;
Salvation from my ev'ry sin,
Flows from the blissful sound.
Sav'd from the devil, death, and hell, Sav'd from the curse of God; Sav'd from my ev'ry gloomy fear, Through the Redeemer's blood.
Sins against heav'nly light and love,
Sins of a crimson die,
Lose their deep stains in Calv'ry's flood,
And there are wash'd away.
Now, O ye saints, arise and sing,
Sing the dear Saviour's worth;
Let his salvation be your theme,
And sound it through the earth.
Help us, O Lord, to raise our notes,
And swell the joyful song;
Sing like the saved sons of God,
Sing like the heav'nly throng.
GREAT source of all th' eternal grace,
That saints shall know, or seraphs trace,
Thee we'll attempt in songs of praise,
For acts of grace in ancient days.
Long ere the day that Adam fell,
The cov'nant stood in all things well
Grace had secur'd in Jesus then,
Millions untold of chosen men.
By grace their names were all enroll'd,
As chosen sheep within its fold;
grace secures their standing there, In lines of love divinely fair.
By grace their crimes were all remov'd,
When Jesus bled for those he lov'd:
That awful, black, infernal score,
Sunk in the deep to rise no more.
"Twas all of grace, from first to last,
The deed was done, the pardon past;
Secure in Christ were all its heirs,
The curse was his, and pardon theirs.
Great God of Grace, forgive the lays,
That fall so far beneath thy praise;
By grace, we hope to sing, ere long,
Eternal love in sweeter song.
LOVE was the great self-moving cause,
From whence salvation came;
Free grace, the channel where it flows,
Eternally the same.
Free grace, thy peerless glories beam'd
Before the Day-Star rose!
Angels elect, and men redeem'd,
Thy fame can ne'er disclose.
Free grace, the Christian's charter is,
The royal grant of heav'n;
In this he finds his righteousness,
And sees his sins forgiv'n.
Free grace hath heights and depths unknown,
Beyond what seraphs know;
'Tis high as heav'n's eternal throne,
And deep as hell below.
Free grace can 'rase the foulest stains
That red like crimson prove;
It trickled from the Saviour's veins,
In drops of endless love.
Free grace they sing before the throne,
Without a jarring sound;
The Lamb's redeeming blood they own,
Wherein their sins were drown'd.
Free grace, we'll count thy wonders o'er,
And lift thy glories high;
We hope, at last, on Jordan's shore,
In thine embrace to die.
87. The Gospel glad tidings to Sinners. 8.7. 'Tis the Gospel's joyful tidings,
Full salvation sweetly sounds;
Grace, to heal thy foul backslidings,
Sinner, flows from Jesu's wounds.
Are thy sins beyond recounting,
Like the sand the ocean leaves?
Jesus is of life the fountain,
He unto the utmost saves.
Love's abyss there's no exploring,
"Tis beyond the seraph's ken;
Prostrate at thy feet, adoring,
We revere thy love to men.
Hail the Lamb who came to save us,
Hail the love that made him die;
"Tis the gift that God hath giv'n us,
We'll proclaim his honours high.
When we join the gen'ral chorus
Of the royal blood-bought throng,
Who to glory went before us,
Sav'd from ev'ry tribe and tongue;
Then we'll make the blissful regions
Echo to our Saviour's praise;
While the bright angelic legions
Listen to the charming lays.
88. The Saints more than Conquerors through Christ. S. M.
THE Conquest Jesus won
O'er Satan, sin, and hell,
With all the wonders he hath done,
His saints shall sing and tell.
On him shall Zion place
Her only hope for heav'n;
And see, in his dear, sacred face,
Ten thousand sins forgiv'n.
"Twas at her Surety's hands,
That Justice had its due;
Large as the righteous law's demands,
We his obedience view.
He pass'd within the veil,
Did on his bosom bear
The worthless names, that did prevail,
With him to enter there.
Our Advocate with God,
For favour'd sinners slain,
Demands the purchase of his blood,
With him to live and reign.
Worthy the slaughter'd Lamb,
Let ransom'd mortals say;
For who shall sing his lovely name
In higher notes than they?