Well, the Redeemer's gone

Well, the Redeemer's gone
T' appear before our God;
To sprinkle o'er the flaming throne
With his atoning blood.

No fiery vengeance now,
Nor burning wrath comes down
If justice calls for sinners' blood,
The Savior shows his own.

Before his Father's eye
Our humble suit he moves;
The Father lays his thunder by,
And looks, and smiles, and loves.

Now may our joyful tongues
Our Maker's honor sing;
Jesus the Priest receives our songs,
And bears them to the King.

We bow before his face,
And sound his glories high:
"Hosannah to the God of grace,
That lays his thunder by.

"On earth thy mercy reigns,
And triumphs all above:"
But, Lord, how weak are mortal strains
To speak immortal love!

How jarring and how low
Are all the notes we sing
Sweet Savior, tune our songs anew,
And they shall please the King.