I hear the great Jehovah’s voice,
He speaks His everlasting choice,
Tells me its spring is sovereign grace,
Its end ensures a world of bliss.

When the Lord chose the numerous seed,
He viewed them in their glorious Head;
He clearly saw their awful fall,
But made provision for them all.

For He determined ne’er to lose
The objects He had loved and chose;
From His dear sons He ne’er could part,
They lay so near His gracious heart.

Therefore, in wisdom, He decreed
A way to save the chosen seed;
Jesus, their loving Surety, stands
And answers all the law’s demands.

Jesus, to Thee we now would fly,
And on Thy precious blood rely:
Find through the conduct of Thy grace,
That we’re among the chosen race.