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.

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.