The days of Paradise were few,

Man lived not long in innocence;

He sinn'd, and sin his offspring slew,

Death pass'd on all for his offence.

Adam survives throughout his race,

We do our father's deeds by choice;

Like him, we shun our Maker's face,

And tremble at our Judge's voice.

Yet is our Maker still our Friend;

Man yet may meet his Judge with joy;

God, in our nature, did not send

His Son to punish and destoy.

He sent Him forth to seek and save

The lost, the dying, and the dead,

Cancel the curse, despoil the grave,

And bruise for ever Satan's head.

Thou, who thy Son to us didst give,

That none who trust in Him should die;

Give us to Him that we may live;--

To His atoning blood we fly.

Behold His sacrifice of love,

So freely offer'd in our stead;

Behold Him at the throne above,

And save the souls for whom He bled.