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All glorious God, what hymns of praise

Hymnal: HPEC1871 #371 (1871) Meter: 8.8.8.8 Lyrics: 1 All glorious God, what hymns of praise Shall our transported voices raise! What ardent love and zeal are due, While heaven stands open to our view! 2 Once we were fallen, and O how low! Just on the brink of endless woe: When Jesus, from the realms above, Borne on the wings of boundless love, 3 Scattered the shades of death and night, And spread around His heavenly light: By Him what wondrous grace is shown To souls impoverish'd and undone! 4 He shows, beyond these mortal shores, A bright inheritance as ours; Where saints in light our coming wait To share their holy, happy state. Languages: English

To our Redeemer's glorious Name

Hymnal: HPEC1871 #372 (1871) Meter: 8.6.8.6 Lyrics: 1 To our Redeemer's glorious Name Awake the sacred song: O may His love (immortal flame!) Tune every heart and tongue. 2 His love, what mortal thought can reach, What mortal tongue display! Imagination's utmost stretch In wonder dies away. 3 He left His radiant throne on high, Left the bright realms of bliss, And came to earth to bleed and die: Was ever love like this? 4 Dear Lord, while we adoring pay Our humble thanks to Thee, May every heart with rapture say, "The Saviour died for me." 5 O may the sweet, the blissful theme Fill every heart and tongue, Till strangers love Thy charming name, And join the sacred song. Languages: English

Sing, my soul, His wondrous love

Hymnal: HPEC1871 #373 (1871) Lyrics: 1 Sing, my soul, His wondrous love, Who, from yon bright throne above, Ever watchful o'er our race, Still to man extends His grace. 2 Heaven and earth by Him were made; All is by His scepter sway'd; What are we that He should show So much love to us below? 3 God, the merciful and good, Bought us with the Saviour's blood, And, to make our safety sure, Guides us by His Spirit pure. Sing, my soul, adore His Name, Let His glory be thy theme: Praise Him till he calls thee home; Trust His love for all to come. Languages: English

O could I speak the matchless worth

Hymnal: HPEC1871 #374 (1871) Lyrics: 1 O could I speak the matchless worth, O could I sound the glories forth Which in my Savior 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 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. 3 O 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. Languages: English

Peace, troubled soul, whose plaintive moan

Hymnal: HPEC1871 #375 (1871) Lyrics: 1 Peace, troubled soul, whose plaintive moan Hath taught each scene the note of woe; Cease thy complaint, suppress thy groan, And let thy tears forget to flow: Behold, the precious balm is found, To lull thy pain and heal thy wound. 2 Come, freely come, by sin opprest, On Jesus cast thy weighty load; In Him thy Refuge find, thy rest, Safe in the mercy of thy God: Thy God's thy Saviour, glorious word; O hear, believe, and bless the Lord. Languages: English

Grace! 'tis a charming sound

Hymnal: HPEC1871 #376 (1871) Meter: 6.6.8.6 Lyrics: 1 Grace! 'tis a charming sound, Harmonious to the ear; Heaven with the echo shall resound, And all the earth shall hear. 2 Grace first contrived the way To save rebellious man, And all the steps that grace display Which drew the wondrous plan. 3 Grace taught my wandering feet To tread the heavenly road; And new supplies each hour I meet While pressing on to God. 4 Grace all the work shall crown Through everlasting days; It lays in heaven the topmost stone, And well deserves the praise. Languages: English

He's blest, whose sins have pardon gain'd

Hymnal: HPEC1871 #377 (1871) Meter: 8.8.8.8 Lyrics: 1 He's blest, whose sins have pardon gain'd No more in judgment to appear, Whose guilt remission has obtain'd And whose repentance is sincere. 2 No sooner I my wound disclosed, The guilt that tortured me within, But Thy forgiveness interposed, And mercy's healing balm pour'd in. 3 Sorrows on sorrows multiplied, The harden'd sinner shall confound; But them who in His truth confide, Blessings of mercy shall surround. 4 His saints that have perform'd His laws, Their life in triumph shall employ; Let them, as they alone have cause, In grateful raptures shout for joy. Languages: English

All ye who seek for sure relief

Hymnal: HPEC1871 #378 (1871) Meter: 8.6.8.6 Lyrics: 1 All ye who seek for sure relief In trouble and distress, Whatever sorrow vex the mind, Or guilt the soul oppress: 2 Jesus, Who gave Himself for you, Upon the Cross to die, Opens to you His sacred heart: O to that heart draw nigh. 3 Ye hear how kindly He invites; Ye hear His words so blest: "All ye that labour come to me, And I will give you rest.' 4 O Jesus, joy of saints on high, Thou hope of sinners here, Attracted by those loving words, To Thee I lift my prayer. 5 Wash Thou my wounds in that dear blood Which forth from Thee doth flow; New grace, new hope inspire; a new And better heart bestow. Languages: English

Ah, not like erring man is God

Hymnal: HPEC1871 #379 (1871) Meter: 8.8.8.8 Lyrics: 1 Ah, not like erring man is God, That men to answer Him should dare; Condemn'd, and into silence awed, They helpless stand before His bar. 2 There must a Mediator plead, Who, God and man, may both embrace; With God for man to intercede, And offer man the purchased grace. 3 And lo! the Son of God is slain To be this Mediator crown'd: In Him my soul, be cleansed from stain, In Him thy righteousness be found. Languages: English

When, wounded sore, the stricken soul

Hymnal: HPEC1871 #380 (1871) Meter: 8.6.8.6 Lyrics: 1 When, wounded sore, the stricken soul Lies bleeding and unbound, One only hand, a piercèd hand, Can heal the sinner's wound. 2 When sorrow swells the laden breast, And tears of anguish flow, One only heart, a broken heart, Can feel the sinner's woe. 3 When penitence has wept in vain Over some foul, dark spot, One only stream, a stream of blood, Can wash away the blot. 4 'T is Jesus' blood that washes white, His hand that brings relief, His heart that's touch'd with all our joys, And feeleth for our grief. 5 Lift up Thy bleeding hand, O Lord! Unseal that cleansing tide; We have no shelter from our sin But in Thy wounded side. Languages: English