IW
Verse 1
Let the old heathens tune their song
Of great Diana and of Jove;
But the sweet theme that moves my tongue
Is my Redeemer and his love.
Verse 2
Behold a God descends and dies
To save my soul from gaping hell;
How the black gulf where Satan lies
Yawn’d to receive me when I fell!
Verse 3
How justice frown’d and vengeance stood
To drive me down to endless pain!
But the great Son propos’d his blood,
And heavenly wrath grew mild again.
Verse 4
Infinite lover, gracious Lord,
To thee be endless honours given;
Thy wondrous Name shall be ador’d
Round the wide earth, and wider heaven.
Isaac Watts, “Let the Old Heathens Tune Their Song”