Christian Songs, Song LXXVIII

Come brethren, lift up your souls, tune your voices, And praise the author of your being; Th' angelic song the heav'nly host rejoices, Swift to his praise, to his will still on the wing. Hail! blest throng, For your tongue Still is strung To the song, That his mercy endureth for ever.

2 To him who made these glorious hosts, celestial habitants, To praise him, and shew forth his glory, To minister around, as guardians to his saints, Sojourning in this lower story. Heav'ns resound To his name, With the sound Of the theme, That his mercy endureth for ever.

3 To him who inhabits eternity, who made This beauteous world, and yon glorious heav'n, Who bade to shine yon glorious orbs which roll around your head; And measure out the morn and ev'n, Whilst ye gaze On his ways, Tune your lays To his praise, For his mercy endureth forever.

4 To him who from eternity bore us upon his heart; His love, like himself, is eternal; Who bare all our sins, and felt the wrathful smart, From God, wicked men, powers infernal. For his love, Most profound, Still doth move, Knows no bound, Yea his mercy endureth for ever.

5 To him that united his god-head to our nature, When wretched, accursed, abandon'd, forlorn, Still he's God, still he's man, (mysterious matter,) Who to own his brotherhood doth not scorn. The curse he, On the tree, Bore that we, Might be free; For his mercy endureth for ever.

6 Reviled, rejected, despised, contemned, Afflicted, yea poor as a beggar, Persecuted, perverted, arraigned, condemned, His cordial was gall and vinegar; Crucify'd Twixt two thieves, There he dy'd, Who e'er lives; For his mercy endureth for ever.