Our spirits join t' adore the Lamb;
O that our feeble lips could move
In strains immortal as his name,
And melting as his dying love!
Was ever equal pity found?
The Prince of heav'n resigns his breath,
And pours his life out on the ground,
To ransom guilty worms from death.
[Rebels, we broke our Maker's laws
He from the threat'nings set us free,
Bore the full vengeance on his cross,
And nailed the curses to the tree.]
[The law proclaims no terror now,
And Sinai's thunder roars no more;
From all his wounds new blessings flow,
A sea of joy without a shore.
Here we have washed our deepest stains,
And healed our wounds with heav'nly blood;
Blest fountain! springing from the veins
Of Jesus, our incarnate God.]
In vain our mortal voices strive
To speak compassion so divine;
Had we a thousand lives to give,
A thousand lives should all be thine.
Isaac Watts was the son of a schoolmaster, and was born in Southampton, July 17, 1674. He is said to have shown remarkable precocity in childhood, beginning the study of Latin, in his fourth year, and writing respectable verses at the age of seven. At the age of sixteen, he went to London to study in the Academy of the Rev. Thomas Rowe, an Independent minister. In 1698, he became assistant minister of the Independent Church, Berry St., London. In 1702, he became pastor. In 1712, he accepted an invitation to visit Sir Thomas Abney, at his residence of Abney Park, and at Sir Thomas' pressing request, made it his home for the remainder of his life. It was a residence most favourable for his health, and for the prosecution of his literary… Go to person page >| First Line: | Our spirits join t' adore the Lamb |
| Title: | The Compassion of a Dying Christ |
| Author: | Isaac Watts |
| Meter: | 8.8.8.8 |
| Language: | English |
| Copyright: | Public Domain |
My Starred Hymns