We sing the praise of Him Who died
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L.M. 1 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 loss. 2 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. 3 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. 4 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; 5 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. T. Kelly