O for the tongue of an an­gel,
To sing my Re­deem­er’s praise;
Surely His ten­der com­pass­ion
Has fol­lowed me all my days.
Out of my bond­age He brought me,
Astonished His love I trace;
Once I was led by the tempt­er,
But now I’m a child of grace.
O for the tongue of an an­gel,
To sing my Re­deem­er’s praise;
Surely His ten­der com­pas­sion
Has fol­lowed me all my days.

O for a voice like a trum­pet,
So loud that the world might hear;
Gladly I’d pub­lish re­demp­tion,
Through Je­sus my friend so dear.
Over the re­gions of dark­ness,
I’d sing of His love so free;
Ever re­peat­ing the sto­ry
Of what He has done for me.
O for a voice like a trum­pet,
So loud that the world might hear;
Gladly I’d pub­lish re­demp­tion,
Through Je­sus my friend so dear.

Lost in the depths of His mer­cy,
And filled with His in­fi­nite love!
Upward my spir­it is ris­ing,
Away to its home ab­ove.
Glory to Je­sus, all glo­ry,
That when His dear face I see;
I’ll thank and ad­ore Him for­ev­er,
For what He has done for me.
Lost in the depths of His mer­cy,
And filled with His in­fi­nite love!
Upward my spir­it is ris­ing,
Away to its home ab­ove.