152
C. P. M.
His unsearchable riches.
O could I speak the matchless worth,
O could I sound the glories forth,
Which in my Saviour shine;
I’d soar, and touch the heavenly strings,
And vie with Gabriel, while he sings
In notes almost divine.
2 I’d sing the precious blood he spilt,
My ransom from the dreadful guilt
Of sin, and wrath divine;
I’d sing his glorious righteousness,
In which all-perfect, heavenly dress,
My soul shall ever shine.
3 I’d sing the characters he bears,
And all the forms of love he wears,
Exalted on his throne;
In loftiest songs of sweetest praise,
I would to everlasting days
Make all his glories known.
4 Well, the delightful day will come,
When my dear Lord will bring me home,
And I shall see his face;
Then, with my Saviour, Brother, Friend,
A blest eternity I’ll spend,
Triumphant in his grace.
Medley.