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Praise for Reigning Grace. Rom. 5. 20, 21; Rev. 5. 9

J. Kent           8.8.6.

1
Hark! how the blood-bought hosts above
Conspire to praise redeeming love,
In sweet harmonious strains;
And while they strike the golden lyres,
This glorious theme each bosom fires,
That grace triumphant reigns.

2
Join thou, my soul, for thou canst tell
How grace divine broke up thy cell,
And loosed thy native chains;
And still, from that auspicious day,
How oft art thou constrained to say,
That grace triumphant reigns.

3
[Grace, till the tribes redeemed by blood,
Are brought to know themselves and God,
Her empire shall maintain;
To call when he appoints the day,
And from the mighty take the prey,
Shall grace triumphant reign.]

4
When called to meet the King of dread,
Should love compose my dying bed,
And grace my soul sustain,
Then, ere I quit this mortal clay,
I’ll raise my fainting voice, and say,
Let grace triumphant reign.