hymns-for-the-poor-of-the-flock-v4

420. O the matchless love of God

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1. O t h e  matchless love of God;
He hath bought the church with blood: 
Jesus, her exalted Head,
For her sigh’d, and groan’d, and bled.

2. She deserv’d eternal pain,
But the Lamb for her was slain;
He endur’d the wrath of heav’n 
That her sins might be forgiv’n.

3. He invites us to this feast;
Bids our souls His glories taste;
And with pleasure keep in view,
What He once for us went through.

4. Hear Him speak, ye saved few 
For this word is sent to you;
You, the objects of His choice,
Listen to the Saviour’s voice:

5. “ This, my body is, and blood;
Take, receive it, as your food;
But, as oft as this ye do,
Keep your m a rtyr’d Lord in view.

6. “ View Him in the church’s place, 
Overwhelm’d in deep disgrace: 
Plung’d in horror’s dreadful flood, 
Bearing all the wrath of God.

7. “ Risen now, with wonder tell,
He has vanquish’d death and hell: 
Cancell’d all your sins with blood,
And will bring you home to God.”

8. Shortly He Himself will come,
And will raise us to His throne;
Where His glories He’ll display,
Through a long and endless day.