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Blow ye the trumpet, blow
The gladly solemn sound! Let poor insolvents know To earth’s remotest bound: The year of jubilee is come; Return, ye ransomed sinners, home.
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Were chosen in their Head, To all eternal good, Before the worlds were made; Chosen to know the Prince of Peace, And taste the riches of his grace.
Exalt the Lamb of God, The sin-atoning Lamb; Redemption by his blood, To burdened souls proclaim: The year of jubilee is come; Return, ye ransomed sinners, home. Ye slaves in Sinai’s cell, Your liberty receive; And safe in Jesus dwell, And blest in Jesus live: The year of jubilee is come; Return, ye ransomed sinners, home. The gospel-trumpet hear, The news of pardoning grace; Ye happy souls, draw near, Behold your Saviour’s face: The year of jubilee is come; Return, ye ransomed sinners, home. Jesus, our great High Priest, Has full atonement made; Ye weary spirits, rest; Ye mournful souls, be glad! The year of jubilee is come;
Chosen to Salvation. Rom. 11. 5; 2 Thess. 2. 13
All the elected train
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Chosen to faith and hope, To purity and love, To all the life of God, To all the things above; Chosen to prove salvation sure; Chosen to reign for evermore.
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Nothing but grace appears In this eternal choice; It charms the humble saint, And makes the soul rejoice; Its endless glories shine so bright, It makes obedience all delight.
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Now, Lord, to us reveal The all-confirming grace; And may we all pursue The shining paths of peace; Run in the way to joys above, And ever sing electing love. RICHARD BURNHAM 1785 L.M. R. Burnham Predestination. Acts 13. 48; Rom. 8. 30
