Comfort, Ye Ministers of Grace

Comfort

ye min­is­ters of grace

Comfort the peo­ple of your Lord

Oh! lift ye up the fall­en race

And cheer them by the Gos­pel word.

Go

in­to ev­ery na­tion

go!

Speak to their tremb­ling hearts

and cry

Glad tid­ings un­to all we show;

Jerusalem

thy God is nigh.

Accomplished is thy le­gal war

The man­tle o’er thy sins is spread;

Thy God the pun­ish­ment hath bore

Thy God the debt hath more than paid.

Punished thou art

for He hath died

The mer­it of His death is thine

Absolved

and free­ly jus­ti­fied

And clothed in right­eous­ness di­vine.

Hark

in the wil­der­ness a cry

A voice that loud­ly calls

Pre­pare!

Prepare your hearts

for God is nigh

And means to make His en­trance there.

The Lord your God shall quick­ly come:

Sinners

re­pent

the call ob­ey;

Open your hearts to make Him room

Ye de­sert souls

pre­pare His way.

The Lord shall clear His way thro’ all

Whate’er ob­structs

ob­structs in vain;

The vale shall rise

the mount­ain fall

Crooked be straight

and rugg­ed plain.

Nature per­verse and rough shall yield

Th’aspiring droop

the ab­ject dare;

Alike by sov­er­eign grace com­pelled

Despair shall hope

and pride des­pair.

When all into sub­ject­ion brought

Level shall lie

and hum­bly low

Who cap­ti­vat­ed ev­ery thought

His glo­ry then the Lord shall show.

The glo­ry of the Lord dis­played

Together all man­kind shall view;

And what His mouth in truth hath said

His own al­migh­ty hand shall do.