Old-Line Primitive Baptist Hymn and Tune Book

83 (C.M.) Philip Doddridge

Aloud we sing the wondrous grace,

Christ to His murd'rers bore;

Which made the tott'ring cross its throne,

And hung its trophies there.

"Father, forgive!" His mercy cried,

With His expiring breath,

And drew eternal blessings down

On those who wrought His death.

Jesus, this wond'rous love we sing,

And while we sing, admire;

Breathe on our souls, and kindle there

The same celestial fire.