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	LET Zion in her songs record     The honours of her dying Lord,     Triumphant over sin; How sweet the song there’s none can say, But those whose sins are washed away     And feel that grace within.
2	We claim no merit of our own, But self-condemned before Thy throne,     Our hope on Jesus place; Though once in heart and life depraved, We now can sing as sinners saved,     And praise redeeming grace.
3	We’ll sing the same while life shall last, And when, at the last trumpet’s blast,     Our sleeping dust shall rise, Then in a song for ever new, The glorious theme we’ll still pursue     Throughout the eternal skies.
4	Prepared of old, at God’s right hand Bright everlasting mansions stand     For all the blood-bought race; And till we reach those seats of bliss, We’ll sing no other song but this—     Salvation all of grace.
	John Kent, 1766-1843