1 To souls just perishing on the stormy deep
Not land more welcome; nor to travellers ears,
Fainting with thirst, 'midst Lybia's burning sands,
The sound of gushing rill at distance heard,
More joy inspires, than to the burden'd mind
The voice of pardon, when high heav'n reprieves
The forfeit life, and sin's great debt forgives.

2 How beautiful the feet! that go
O'er mountains, like the fleetest roe!
To Sion's gates with haste repair,
And loudly this best news declare.

3 Herald of love and peace, I bring
This message from your God and King –
Thy sins are pardon'd; raise thy head,
Let sacred joys thy heart o'erspread;

4 Awake, cry out, salvation's near,
No longer death or vengeance fear:
Thy crimes as crimson colour'd deep,
In mercy's breast forever sleep;

5 Wash'd in one blood, now whiter grow,
Than purest flakes of purest snow:
See the blest fount from his pierc'd side;
For you, for all, he bled, he died.