It well becomes the saints of God;
Should we refuse our songs to raise,
The stones might tell our shame abroad.
Let us our sweetest songs prepare;
He sought us wandering far from God,
And now preserves us by His care.
Reserved for sinners saved by grace;
'Tis sacred to one class alone
And touched by one peculiar race.
How mercy flows in Jesus' blood,
It is not theirs to prove, as we,
The cleansing virtue of this flood.
And worship Him as God alone,
We can with exultation sing,
"He wears our nature on the throne."
Which brought Thee here to bleed and die
That Thou lost sinners may restore
And to the Father bring them nigh.
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