A hymn written by Isaac Watts | |
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(1) How sweet and awful is the placeWith Christ within the doors, While everlasting love displays The choicest of her stores |
(2) Here, all the mercy of our Godwith soft compassion rolls; Here peace and pardon, bought with blood Is food for dying souls. |
(3) While all our hearts and all our songsJoin to admire the feast, Each of us cry, with thankful tongues, "Lord, why was I a guest? |
(4) Why was I made to hear Thy voice,And enter while there's room? When thousands make a wretched choice, And rather starve than come. |
(5) 'Twas the same love that spread the feast,That sweetly forced us in; Else we had still refused to taste, And perished in our sin. |
(6) We long to see Thy Churches full,That all the chosen race May, with one voice, and heart, and soul, Sing Thy redeeming grace. |