2188 8 6. 8 8 6
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