Hymn 97

From heav'n the sinning angels fell, And wrath and darkness chained them down; But man, vile man, forsook his bliss, And mercy lifts him to a crown.

Amazing work of That could distinguish rebels so! Our guilty treasons called aloud For everlasting fetters too.

To thee, to thee, Almighty Love, Our souls, ourselves, our all we pay: Millions of tongues shall sound thy praise On the bright hills of heav'nly day.