473 Bartholday
All-glorious God, what hymns of praise Shall our transported voices raise? What ardent love and zeal are due, While heav'n stands open to our view! Once we were fall'n, and oh how low Just on the brink of endless woe, When Jesus from the realms above, Borne on the wings of boundless love. Scattered the shades of death and night, And spread around His heav'nly light; By Him what wondrous grace is shown To souls impov'rished and undone! He shows beyond these mortal shores, A bright inheritance as ours, Where saints in light our coming wait, To share their holy, happy state. |