Join all the glorious Names
Of Wisdom, Love, and Power,
That Mortals ever knew,
That Angels ever bore:
All are too mean
To speak his Worth,
Too mean to set
Our Saviour forth.

But, O what gentle Terms,
What condescending Ways,
Doth our Redeemer use
To teach his heav’nly Grace!
My Soul, with Joy
And Wonder see
What Forms of Love
He bears for thee.

Great Prophet of our God,
Our Tongues would bless thy Name;
By thee the joyful News
Of our Salvation came:
The joyful News
Of Sins forgiv’n,
Of Hell subdu’d,
And Peace with Heav’n,

Jesus, our great High Priest,
Offer’d his Blood and dy’d;
Thou guilty Sinner seek
No Sacrifice beside:
His pow’rful Blood
Did once atone,
And now it pleads
Before the Throne.

Thou dear Almighty Lord,
Our Conqu’ror and our King,
Thy Scepter and thy Sword,
Thy reigning Grace we sing.
Thine is the Pow’r;
O may we sit,
In willing Bonds,
Beneath thy Feet!

George Whitefield, A Collection of Hymns for Social Worship, Seventh Edition., (London: William Strahan, 1758), 17–20.