483 We sing the praise of Him who died,

1 We sing the praise of Him who died, Of Him who died upon the cross; The sinner's hope let men deride, For this we count the world but loss. 2 Inscribed upon the cross we see In shining letters, God is love; He bears our sins upon the tree, He brings us mercy from above. 3 The cross, it takes our guilt away, It holds the fainting spirit up, It cheers with hope the gloomy day, And sweetens every bitter cup. 4 It makes the coward spirit brave, And nerves the feeble arm for fight, It takes the terror from the grave, And gilds the bed of death with light. 5 The balm of life, the cure of woe, The measure and the pledge of love, The sinner's refuge here below, The angels' theme in heaven above.