Hymn 19

Isaac Watts

 Next Poem          

Glorying in the cross; or, Not ashamed of Christ crucified.

At thy command, our dearest Lord,
Here we attend thy dying feast;
Thy blood like wine adorns thy board,
And thine own flesh feeds every guest.

Our faith adores thy bleeding love,
And trusts for life in one that died
We hope for heav'nly crowns above,
From a Redeemer crucified.

Let the vain world pronounce it shame,
And fling their scandals on the cause;
We come to boast our Savior's name,
And make our triumphs in his cross.

With joy we tell the scoffing age,
He that was dead has left his tomb;
He lives above their utmost rage,
And we are waiting till he come.

Next Poem 

 Back to Isaac Watts
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry and subscribe to My Poetic Side ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors Weekly news

To be able to leave a comment here you must be registered. Log in or Sign up.