We Sing The Praise Of Him Who Died,
Of Him Who Died Upon The Cross;
The Sinner’s Hope Let Men Deride,
For This We Count The World But Lost.

Inscribed Upon The Cross We See,
In Shining Letters, ‘God Is Love’;
He Bears Our Sins Upon The Tree,
He Brings Us Mercy From Above.

The Cross! It Takes Our Guilt Away,
It Holds The Fainting Spirit Up;
It Cheers With Hope The Gloomy Day
And Sweetens Every Bitter Cup.

It Makes The Coward Spirit Brave,
And Nerves The Feeble Arm For Fight;
It Takes The Terror From The Grave,
And Gilds The Bed Of Death With Light.

The Balm Of Life, The Cure Of Woe,
The Measure And The Pledge Of Love;
The Sinner’s Refuge Here Below,
The Angels’ Theme In Heaven Above.