120
HYMNS.
And now his conquering chariot wheels
Aſcend the lofty ſkies;
While broke, beneath his powerful croſs,
Death's iron ſceptre lies.
Exalted high at God's right hand,
And Lord of all below,
Thro' him is pardoning love diſpens'd,
And boundleſs bleſſings flow.
And ſtill for erring, guilty man,
A brother's pity flows;
And ſtill his bleeding heart is touch'd
With memory of our woes.
To thee, my Saviour, and my king,
Glad homage let me give;
And ſtand prepar'd like thee to die,
With thee that I may live.
HYMN
