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Reformed Praise
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The River
Beneath the feet of man I find
A stream of filth and sin
That springs from ev'ry heart and mind
From fountains deep within.
Oh, who can know its true expanse
When hearts remain unseen?
What tide can stem its dark advance,
What pow'r can make it clean?
But from the sacred throne of God
I see a river rise;
The streams are peace and pard'ning blood
Descending from the skies.
Angelic minds can ne'er explore
This deep, unfathomed sea;
'Tis void of bottom, brim, or shore,
And lost in deity.
I stand amazed to see
This river rising
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That carries down to me
Your grace surprising–
That sacred flood from Jesus' veins,
It washes all my guilty stains.
Free to the sinner dead to God
Who sought the road to hell,
That trampled on the Savior's blood
On whom his sentence fell.
But at the river's source I see
The Lamb upon His throne;
For those who slew Him now He pleads
And calls them as His own.
Sov'reign grace and man's free will
Shall not divide the throne;
For man's a fallen sinner still
And Christ shall reign alone!
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