(2 Cor. 9:15)
O God, Thy gifts are numberless,
Like grains of sand that bound the deep,
And like the-countless water-drops
That in the mighty ocean sleep.
Thy gifts, O God, are free to all,
Like showers that on earth's surface fall.
Thy sun and rain descend alike
On fertile plain and barren rock,
And on the ocean's broad expanse,
Where grows no herb for pasturing flock.
How full and free Thy mercies are;
Thou dost from none Thy blessings bar.
The man who hates Thy peerless name,
Upon his field the blessing falls
As on the tillage of Thy child
Who on Thy name with reverence calls.
The thankful, and the thankless too,
Receive the rain, the sun, and dew.
Thus from Thy great dispensing hand
Do mercies in profusion flow:
Creation basks beneath Thy smile
While dispensations come and go.
Thy treasure-house is free to all-
To those who curse, and those who call !
But oh, Thou great and gracious God,
There is a GIFT Thy love has given,
Surpassing all the countless gifts
That ever came from Thee in heaven-
Thy holy, blessed, peerless Son,
Th' almighty and eternal One.
All other gifts are creature gifts
For blessing here, this side the grave.
But Thine eternal " Fellow" came
Eternally to bless and save.
O God, Thy wondrous plan we see-
Redeemed by Christ, to dwell with Thee!
Now, thanks, unending thanks, be Thine
For Thy stupendous Gift of love;
Thy saints in myriads round Thy throne
Shall praise Thee in Thy courts above.
Amazing grace! astounding plan!
To show such boundless love to man!
Seraphic hosts on starry plains
Shall see Thy saints all robed in white,
And hear their sweet redemption strains
Roll through that world of pure delight;
But in redemption's song of praise
Their voice this note can never raise.
There is one class, and one alone,
That can engage to sing that grace:
'Tis those who've seen Thee, blessed Lord,
In death and judgment take their place-
None but the ransomed ones can say
"Lord, Thou hast washed our sins away."
Then of Thy love and precious blood
Their everlasting song shall be.
Thy love bound Thee to Calvary's cross,
But set poor sin-bound captives free !
Then worship Him, ye sons of light,
While boundless ages wing their flight !
C. C. Crowston