When those who fear'd the Lord of old
Met oft, and spoke with one accord,
A book was written, and enroll'd
Their faithful names before the Lord.

They shall be mine, Jehovah said,
And as a signet on my hand,
A crown of glory for my head,
Among my chosen jewels stand.

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And I will spare them in that day,
Even as a father spares his son,
When all the proud are swept away,
The wicked, root and branch, undone.

Then shall my righteousness be shown;
Then, by their good or evil lot,
The sinner and the saint be known,
Who served the Lord, who served Him not.

Lord, we are taught Thy name to fear,
O may we tremble to offend;
Lord, we are taught to serve Thee here,
May we be faithful to the end.

Our names are on Thy Church's rolls,
But in Thy book our pardon write:
Rich was the ransom of our souls,
May they be precious in Thy sight.