He’s ready to acquit and set us free,
And will proclaim our perfect liberty.
He’ll seal us his, and make us here his care;
He’ll fit us for his throne, and take us there.
He’s cutting short his work in righteousness,
And coming soon his waiting saints to bless.
When once he’s left the mediatorial place,
No ray of mercy lights our ruined race.
’Twill then be known, the offers we’ve refused,
The blood-bought privileges that we’ve abused—