Craig Jessop

Come thou fount of ev'ry blessing,
Tune my heart to sing thy grace.
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise!

Teach me some melodious sonnet
Sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount, I'm fixed upon it,
Mount of thy redeeming love.

Here I raise my Ebenezer;
Hither by thy help I'm come.
And I hope, by thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home.

Prone to wander, Lord I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love.
Here's my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for thy courts above.

Jesus sought me when a stranger,
Wandering from the fold of God.
He to rescue me from danger
Interposed his precious blood.

Prone to wander, Lord I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love.
Here's my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for thy courts above.

O, to grace, how great a debtor,
Daily I'm constrained to be!
May thy goodness, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to thee.

Prone to wander, Lord I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love.
Here's my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for thy courts above.

Seal it for thy courts above!

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored,
He has loosed the fateful lightening of His terrible swift sword
His truth is marching on.

CHORUS:
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.

I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps
His day is marching on.

CHORUS

I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnish'd rows of steel,


"As ye deal with my condemners, So with you my grace shall deal;"
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel
Since God is marching on.

CHORUS

He has sounded form the trumpet that shall never call retreat
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment-seat
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet!
Our God is marching on.

CHORUS

ln the beauty of the lillies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me:
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
While God is marching on.

CHORUS