1 Lord, how divine thy comforts are!
How heav'nly is the place
Where Jesus spreads the sacred feast
Of his redeeming grace!
2 There the rich bounties of our God,
And sweetest glories shine;
There Jesus says that "I am his,
And my Beloved's mine.
3 "Here (says the kind, redeeming Lord,
And shews his wounded side)
"See here the spring of all your joys
That open'd when I dy'd!"
4 [He smiles and cheers my mournful heart,
And tells of all his pain:
"All this (says he) I bore for thee;"
And then he smiles again.]
5 What shall we pay our heav'nly King
For grace so vast as this?
He brings our pardon to our eyes,
And seals it with a kiss.
6 [Let such amazing loves as these
Be sounded all abroad;
Such favours are beyond degrees,
And worthy of a God.]
7 To him that wash'd us in his blood
Be everlasting praise;
Salvation, honour, glory, pow'r,
Eternal as his days.]
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Lord, how divine thy comforts are! |
Title: | Pardon brought to our senses |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1793 |