That Man Whose Impious Tongue Denies

That man whose im­pi­ous tongue de­nies

The God who ev­ery want sup­plies

Or whose un­hal­lowed act­ions pro­ve

He feels nor gra­ti­tude nor love

Ranks far be­neath the brute

who knows

What hand his hum­ble meal be­stows.

Yet

did not such heav­en­ly grace abound

Such would each son of man be found;

For when the Al­migh­ty from His throne

Looked on the earth

be­hold

not one

The nar­row path of virtue trod

Or kept the pre­cepts of his God.

But He

who with a sin­gle breath

Could doom a guil­ty world to death

With mer­cy’s gent­ly plead­ing voice

Offers sal­va­tion to our choice;

Freedom from sin’s de­bas­ing chain

And strength fresh con­flicts to sus­tain.

O haste we then—with joy em­brace

This rich

this free­ly of­fered grace;

Gladly our hearts and voic­es raise

In loud and grate­ful songs of praise

And to the list­en­ing world pro­claim

Our great Re­deem­er’s glo­ri­ous name.