1 Plung'd in a Gulf of dark Despair
We wretched Sinners lay,
Without one cheerful Beam of Hope,
Or Spark of glimm'ring Day.

2 With pitying Eyes the Prince of Grace
Beheld our helpless Grief;
He saw, and, (O amazing Love!)
He ran to our Relief.

3 Down from the shining Seats above
With Joyful Haste he fled;
Enter'd the Grave in mortal Flesh,
And dwelt among the Dead.

4 Oh! for this Love let Rocks and Hills
Their lasting Silence break;
And all harmonious human Tongues
The Saviour's Praises speak.

5 Angels assist our mighty Joys,
Strike all your Harps of Gold;
But when you raise your highest Notes,
His Love can ne'er be told.