Isaac Watts

(17 July 1674 – 25 November 1748 / Southampton / England)

Hymn 38 Part 1 - Poem by Isaac Watts

The atonement of Christ.

Rom. 3:25.

How is our nature spoiled by sin!
Yet nature ne'er hath found
The way to make the conscience clean,
Or heal the painful wound.

In vain we seek for peace with God
By methods of our own:
Jesus, there's nothing but thy blood
Can bring us near the throne.

The threat'nings of thy broken law
Impress our souls with dread;
If God his sword of vengeance draw,
It strikes our spirits dead.

But thine illustrious sacrifice
Hath answered these demands:
And peace and pardon from the skies
Came down by Jesus' hands.

Here all the ancient types agree,
The altar and the lamb;
And prophets in their visions see
Salvation through his name.

'Tis by thy death we live, O Lord,
'Tis on thy cross we rest;
For ever be thy love adored,
Thy name for ever blessed.


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Read poems about / on: nature, peace, god, death, sky, wind



Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004



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