LET Zion in her songs record The honours of her dying Lord, Triumphant over sin; How sweet the song there’s none can say, But those whose sins are washed away And feel that grace within.
We claim no merit of our own, But self-condemned before Thy throne, Our hope on Jesus place; Though once in heart and life depraved, We now can sing as sinners saved, And praise redeeming grace.
We’ll sing the same while life shall last, And when, at the last trumpet’s blast, Our sleeping dust shall rise, Then in a song for ever new, The glorious theme we’ll still pursue Throughout the eternal skies.
Prepared of old, at God’s right hand Bright everlasting mansions stand For all the blood-bought race; And till we reach those seats of bliss, We’ll sing no other song but this— Salvation all of grace.
John Kent, 1766-1843