Old-Line Primitive Baptist Hymn and Tune Book

159 (8.8.8.8.D) James Maxwell

How shall I my Saviour set forth?

How shall I His beauties declare?

Or how shall I speak of His worth,

Or what His chief dignities are?

His angels can never express,

Nor saints who sit nearest His throne,

How rich are His treasures of grace,

No! This is a myst'ry unknown.

In Him all the fullness of God

Forever transcendently shines;

Though once like a mortal He stood,

To finish His gracious designs:

Though once He was nailed to the cross,

Vile rebels like me to set free,

His glory sustainèd no loss,

Eternal His kingdom shall be.

His wisdom, His love, and His pow'r

Seemed then with each other to vie,

When sinners He stooped to restore,

Poor sinners condemnèd to die!

He laid all His grandeur aside,

And dwelt in a cottage of clay;

Poor sinners He loved 'til He died

To wash their pollution away.

O sinners, believe and adore

This Saviour so rich to redeem!

No creature can ever explore

The treasures of goodness in Him.

Come, all ye who see yourselves lost,

And feel yourselves burdened with sin:

Draw near, while with terror you're tossed,

Believe, and your peace shall begin.