PLUNGED in a gulf of dark despair We helpless sinners lay, Without one cheering beam of hope, Or spark of dawning day.
With pitying eyes, the Prince of Grace Beheld our helpless grief; He saw, and, O amazing love, He came to our relief.
Down from His glorious courts above He came to earth, and bled, Entered the grave in mortal flesh, And lay among the dead.
He spoiled the powers of darkness thus, And broke our bitter chains; So Jesus freed our captive souls From everlasting pains.
O! for such love let rocks and hills Their lasting silence break; And all the host of ransomed tongues The Saviour’s praises speak!
O, hosts above, assist our joys On heavenly harps of gold; But even with angelic powers His love can ne’er be told.
Isaac Watts, 1674-1748