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1 While sitting round our father's board,
We raise our tuneful breath;
Our faith beholds her dying Lord,
And dooms our sins to death.
2 We see the blood of Jesus shed,
Whence all our pardons rise,
The sinner views th' atonement made,
And loves the sacrifice.
3 Thy cruel thorns, thy shameful cross;
Procure us heavenly crowns:
Our gain arises from thy loss;
Our healing, from thy wounds.
4 Not all the race of mortals here,
Who dwell in feeble clay,
For thee can equal sufferings bear
Or equal thanks repay.
| Text Information | |
|---|---|
| First Line: | While sitting round our Father's board |
| Title: | Grace and Glory by the Death of Christ |
| Language: | English |
| Publication Date: | 1787 |
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