C. M. Salvation. Salvation! O the joyful sound! 'Tis pleasure to our ears; A sovereign balm for every wound, A cordial for our fears. Buried in sorrow and in sin, At hell's dark door we lay; But we arise by grace Divine To see a heav'nly day. Salvation! let the echo fly The spacious earth around, While all the armies of the sky Conspire to raise the sound. |