HYMN XXXVIII.
[PART I.]
[He's gone! the spotless soul is gone]
He's gone! the spotless soul is gone,
Triumphant to his place above;
The prison walls are broken down,
The angels speed his swift remove,
And shouting on their wings he flies,
And Hervey rests in paradise.
Through the last dreadful conflict brought,
Which shook so sore his dying breast,
Far happier for that bitter draught,
With more transcendent raptures bless'd,
He finds for every patient groan
A jewel added to his crown.
Saved by the merit of his Lord,
Salvation, praise to Christ he gives,
Yet still his merciful reward
According to his works receives,
And with the seed he sow'd below,
His bliss eternally shall grow.
Redeem'd by righteousness Divine,
In God's own portraiture complete,
With brighter rays ordain'd to shine,
He casts his crown at Jesus' feet,
And hails Him sitting on the throne,
For ever saved by grace alone.
