Praise to the Redeemer

Plunged in a gulf of dark despair,

We wretched sinners lay,

Without one cheerful beam of hope

Or spark of glimmering day.

With pitying eyes the Prince of Grace

Behold our helpless grief;

He saw, and--oh, 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.

Oh, for this love, let rocks and hills

Their lasting silence break,

And all harmonious human tongues

The Saviour's praises speak.

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.