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How pleasant is
the sound of praise!
It well becomes the saints of God:
Should we refuse our songs to raise,
The stones might tell
our shame abroad.
For Him who washed us
in His blood,
Let us our sweetest songs prepare;
He sought us wandering
far from God,
And now preserves us by His care.
One string there is
of sweetest tone,
Reserved for sinners
saved by grace;
'Tis sacred to one class alone,
And touched by one peculiar race.
Though angels may
with rapture see
How mercy flows in Jesus' blood,
It is not theirs to prove, as we,
The cleansing virtue of this flood.
Lord, we adore
the wondrous love
Which brought Thee here
to bleed and die;
Soon shall we meet in heaven above,
And sing Thy praises in the sky.
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marker 99
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LYRICS
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Meter:
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8 8 8 8 (L.M.)
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Writer(s):
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Trans/Adapted:
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Dates:
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Bible Refs:
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LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Year
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Song #
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| 1881 | # 317 |
MUSIC
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Name:
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WAREHAM
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Meter:
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8 8 8 8 (L.M.)
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Writer(s):
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Dates:
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1738
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LIST OF MUSIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Song #
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Key
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| # 309 | No key | | # 9 | No key | | # 258 | A | | # 356 | A | | # 323 | Bb | | # 651 | Bb | | # 83 | Bb | | # 83 | Bb | | # 274 | Bb | | # 549 | Bb | | # 109 | Bb | | # 546 | Bb | | # 180 | Bb | | # 63 | Bb | | # 529 | Bb | | # 229.2 | No key |
echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
