WE sing the praise of Him Who died, Of Him Who died upon the cross; The sinner’s hope let men deride, For this we count the world but loss.
Inscribed upon the cross we see, In shining letters, ‘God is love’: He bears our sins upon the tree, He brings us mercy from above.
The cross! it takes our guilt away, It holds the fainting spirit up; It cheers with hope the gloomy day, And sweetens every bitter cup.
It makes the coward spirit brave, And nerves the feeble arm for fight; It takes the terror from the grave, And gilds the bed of death with light.
The balm of life, the cure of woe, The measure and the pledge of love; The sinner’s refuge here below, The angels’ theme in Heaven above.
Thomas Kelly, 1769-1855