We bless the Lord who sent his Son
To serve and suffer in our stead;
We bless the Son who left his throne,
And for our ransom freely bled.

Lord, seal thy Son's redeem'd by blood,
And let thy Spirit's quick'ning rays
Draw'ns, and keep us near to God,
Till death shall end our mortal days.

Then from the church where now we sing,
Then from the field where now we fight,
Receive us each a priest and king,
Crown'd in our great Redeemer's right.

Till then, beneath thy peaceful cross,
Shelter'd from danger, we would rest:
And taste the bliss which from it flows,
The bliss of all our blessings best.

No heav'n, if Jesus is not there,
Can any place afford below;
And heav'n itself, when we come there,
Will from his blissful presence flow.

Be this the pledge that we are thine,
The earnest of our rest above;
To feel thy glorious presence shine,
And drink the streams of pard'ning love.