1 Plunged in a gulf of dark despair,
We wretched sinners lay,
Without one cheerful beam of hope
Or spark of glimmering day.
2 With pitying eyes the Prince of Grace
Behold our helpless grief;
He saw, and--oh, amazing love!--
He ran to our relief.
3 Down from the shining seats above,
With joyful haste he fled,
Entered the grave in mortal flesh,
And dwelt among the dead.
4 Oh, for this love, let rocks and hills
Their lasting silence break,
And all harmonious human tongues
The Saviour's praises speak.
5 Angels, assist our mighty joys,
Strike all your harps of gold;
But when you raise your highest notes,
His love can ne'er be told.
Source: The Voice of Praise: a collection of hymns for the use of the Methodist Church #182
|First Line:||Plunged in a gulf of dark despair|