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The great Salvation. 1 SALVATION! O the joyful sound!
'Tis pleasure to our ears ;
A cordial for our fears.
At hell's dark door we lay;
The spacious earth around,
Conspire to raise the sound.
The great Salvation. 1 SALVATION! O the pow'r and love
That here triumphant reign,
To life and God again!
Each stubborn soul subdue,
Than ever mortals knew. 3 Salvation ! O Thou bleeding LAMB!
To Thee the praise belongs :
And dwell upon our tongues.
The gladly solemn sound !
To earth's remotest bound,
Return, ye ransom'd sinners, home. 2 Exalt the LAMB of God,
The sin-atoning LAMB;
Through all the lands proclaim :
Return, ye ransom'd sinners, home. 3 Ye slaves of sin and hell,
Your liberty receive ;
And blest in Jesus live: !
Return, ye ransom'd sinners, home. 4 The Gospel-trumpet hear,
The news of pard’ning grace :
your SAVIOUR's face:
year of jubilee is come;
Has full atonement made :
Ye mournful souls, be glad !
Praise for Redemption.
i Now.begin the heav'nly theme,
Sing aloud the Saviour's Name:
Triumph in-Redeeming Love.
Beaming in IMMANUEL's face,
3 Mourning souls, dry up your tears,
Banish all your guilty fears ;
4. Ye, alas ! who long have been
Willing slaves of death and sin,
5 Welcome, all by sin opprest,
Welcome to His sacred rest;
6 Hither all your music bring,
Strike aloud the cheerful string;
1 PLUNG'D in a gulf of dark despair
We wretched sinners lay,
Or spark of glimm'ring day.
2 With pitying eyes the Prince of Peace
Beheld our helpless grief;
He ran to our relief.
3 Down from the shining seats above
With joyful haste He Aled,
And dwelt among the dead.
4. He spoild the pow'rs of darkness thus,
And brake our iron chains :
From everlasting pains.
5 O for this love let rocks and hills
Their lasting silence break,
6 Yes, we will praise Thee, dearest LORD;
Our souls are all on flame:
To Thine adored Name.
Praise for the Fountain opened.
1 THERE is a fountain filld with blood
Drawn from IMMANUEL's veins;
Lose all their guilty stains. 2 Dear dying LAMB, Thy precious blood
Shall never lose it's pow'r,
Be say'd to sin no more.
3 E’er since, by faith, I saw the stream
Thy flowing wounds supply, Redeeming love has been my theme,
And shall be till I die.
4 Then in a nobler, sweeter song
I'll sing Thy pow'r to save, When this poor lisping stamm'ring tongue
Lies silent in the grave.
5 LORD, I believe Thou hast prepar'd
(Unworthy though I be) For me a blood-bought free reward,
A golden harp for me!
6. 'Tis strung, and tun'd, for endless years,
And form'd by pow'r divine,
No other Name but Thine.