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Poem by Isaac Watts
Christ's commission. John 3:16,17 Come, happy souls, approach your God With new melodious songs; Come, tender to almighty grace The tribute of your tongues. So strange, so boundless was the love That pitied dying men, The Father sent his equal Son To give them life again. Thy hands, dear Jesus, were not armed With a revenging rod, No hard commission to perform The vengeance of a God. But all was mercy, all was mild, And wrath forsook the throne, When Christ on the kind errand came, And brought salvation down. Here, sinners, you may heal your wounds, And wipe your sorrows dry; Trust in the mighty Savior's name, And you shall never die. See, dearest Lord, our willing souls Accept thine offered grace; We bless the great Redeemer's love, And give the Father praise.
Isaac Watts's other poems:
English Poetry. E-mail firstname.lastname@example.org