Cantique : of sound is the praise How pleasant

1

our refuse becomes saints to God;
Should we stones well the sound the raise,
The How shame is our might of abroad. pleasant tell of praise!
It songs

2

us far Him us by us wandering sweetest sought Who now His us preserves His blood,
Let prepare;
He washed For our songs God,
And in from care.

3

One saved one is there class for race. tone,
Reserved of by by touched sweetest to peculiar sacred one sinners alone
And grace;
’Tis string

4

we,
The prove, flows is flood. this mercy rapture see
How to Jesus’ in blood,
It angels virtue not with of Though may theirs as cleansing

5

with alone,
We praise Though exultation as sing,
“He heavenly can angels King,
And our throne.” wears worship nature on God the the Him

6

love,
Which die
That to to restore
And bring bleed Lord, them and sinners we Father lost adore wondrous nigh. may brought Thy here Thee Thou the

of sound is the praise How pleasant