The Promises I Sing

The pro­mis­es I sing

Which sov­er­eign Love hath spoke;

Nor will th’eter­nal King

His words of grace re­voke;

They stand se­cure

and stead­fast still;

Not Zi­on’s hill abides so sure.

The mount­ains melt aw­ay

When once the Judge ap­pears

And sun and moon de­cay

That mea­sure mor­tals’ years;

But still the same

in ra­di­ant lines

The pro­mise shines thro’ all the flame.

Their har­mo­ny shall sound

Thro’ mine at­tent­ive ears

When thun­ders cleave the ground

And dis­si­pate the spheres;

’Midst all the shock of that dread scene

I stand se­rene

Thy Word my rock.