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C. M.

Praise to the Redeemer.


Plunged in a gulf of dark despair

We wretched sinners lay,

Without one cheerful beam of hope,

Or spark of glimm'ring day.

With pitying eyes the Prince of grace

Beheld our helpless grief;

He saw, and, O amazing love!

He ran to our relief.

Down from the shining seats above

With joyful haste he fled,

Entered the grave in mortal flesh,

And dwelt among the dead.

He spoiled the powers of darkness thus,

And brake our iron chains;

Jesus hath freed our captive souls

From everlasting pains.

[In vain the baffled prince of hell

His cursed projects tries

We that were doomed his endless slaves

Are raised above the skies.]

O for this love let rocks and hills

Their lasting silence break,

And all harmonious human tongues

The Savior's praises speak.

[Yes, we will praise thee, dearest Lord,

Our souls are all on flame;

Hosannah round the spacious earth

To thine adored name.

Angels, assist our mighty joys,

Strike all your harps of gold;

But when you raise your highest notes,

His love can ne'er be told.]

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