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.
