PCEA

Appendix B 

A SONG OF MERCY AND JUDGMENT

Lord! I love the Habitation

Where the Saviour’s Honour dwells,

At the Sound of thy Salvation

With Delight my Bosom swells.

Grace Divine how sweet the Sound,

Sweet the grace that I have found.

Me thro’ Waves of deep Affliction

Dearest Saviour! Thou hast brought,

Fiery Deeps of sharp Conviction

Hard to bear and passing Thought.

Sweet the Sound of Grace Divine,

Sweet the grace which makes me thine.

From the cheerful Beams of Morning

Sad I turn’d mine Eyes away:

And the Shades of Night returning

Fill’d my Soul with new Dismay.

Grace Divine how sweet the Sound,

Sweet the grace that I have found.

Food I loath’d nor ever tasted

But by Violence constrain’d,

Strength decay’d and Body wasted,

Spoke the Terrors I sustain’d.

Sweet the Sound of Grace Divine,

Sweet the grace which makes me thine.

Bound and watch’d lest Life abhorring

I should my own Death procure,

For to me the Pit of Roaring

Seem’d more easy to endure.

Grace Divine how sweet the Sound,

Sweet the grace which I have found.

Fear of Thee with gloomy Sadness,

Overwhelm’d thy guilty Worm,

’Till reduced to moping Madness,                    .

Reason sunk beneath the Storm,

Sweet the Sound of Grace Divine,

Sweet the grace which makes me thine.

Then what Soul distressing Noises                    Mercy & Judgment cont.

Seem’d to reach me from below,

Visionary Scenes and Voices,

Flames of Hell and Screams of Woe!

Grace Divine how sweet the Sound,

Sweet the grace which I have found.

But at length a Word of Healing

Sweeter than an Angel’s Note,

From the Saviour’s Lips distilling

Chas’d Despair and chang’d my Lot.

Sweet the Sound of Grace Divine,

Sweet the grace which makes me thine.

’Twas a Word well timed and suited

To the Need of such an Hour,

Sweet to One like me polluted,

Spoke in Love and seal’d with Pow’r.

Grace Divine how sweet the Sound,

Sweet the grace which I have found.

I, he said, have seen thee grieving,

Lov’d thee as I pass’d thee by,

Be not faithless but Believing,

Look, and Live, and never Die.

Sweet the Sound of Grace Divine,

Sweet the grace which makes me thine.

Take the Bloody Seal I give thee,

Deep impress’d upon thy Soul.

God, thy God, will now receive thee,

Faith hath sav’d thee, thou art Whole.

Grace Divine, how sweet the Sound,

Sweet the grace which I have found.

All at once my Chains were broken,

From my Feet my Fetters fell,

And that Word in Pity spoken,

Snatch’d me from the gates of Hell.

Grace Divine, how sweet the Sound,

Sweet the grace which I have found.

Since that Hour in Hope of Glory,                    Mercy & Judgment cont.

With thy Foll’wers I am found,

And relate the wondrous Story

To thy list’ning Saints around.

Sweet the Sound of Grace Divine,

Sweet the grace which makes me thine.

‘TO JESUS, THE CROWN OF MY HOPE’

To Jesus, the Crown of my Hope,

My soul is in haste to be gone:

O bear me, ye Cherubims, up,

And waft me away to his throne.

My Saviour, whom absent I love,

Whom not having seen I adore;

Whose Name is exalted above

All Glory, Dominion, and Power,

Dissolve Thou the bond that detains

My soul from her portion in Thee,

And strike off the adamant chains,

And make me eternally free.

When that happy era begins,

When array’d in thy beauty I shine,

Nor pierce any more by my sins

The bosom, on which I recline: