Faith owes its birth to sovereign grace,

Faith owes its birth to sovereign grace,
And lives beneath the throne,
Where grace maintains her dwelling-place,
And reigns supreme alone.

Faith yields to grace the glory due,
Nor dares assume her place;
But owns all doctrines must be true
That spring from sovereign grace.

The precious cleansing blood of Christ
Is a delightful theme;
When faith is lifted up the high'st,
She sings of none but him.

Faith owns the sceptre through the cross,
And yields obedience true;
Counts all things else but earth and dross,
To keep the Lamb in view.

To live upon his precious death
Is faith's divine repast;
The language of his dying breath,
See how she holds it fast!

Faith views him dead upon the tree;
Then buried in the grave;
And waits around the tomb to see
Him rise with power to save.

Then to the Mount of Olives go;
There faith, with eager eye,
Beholds her Lord leave all below,
To dwell and reign on high.

With tears of joy, faith now believes
The day will surely come,
When he who Jesus' cross receives
Shall see him crowned at home.