Who shall the Lord’s elect con­demn?
’Tis God that jus­ti­fies their souls;
And mer­cy, like a migh­ty stream,
O’er all their sins di­vinely rolls.

Who shall adjudge the saints to hell?
’Tis Christ that suf­fered in their stead;
And, the sal­va­tion to ful­fill,
Behold Him ris­ing from the dead!

He lives! He lives and sits above,
For ever in­ter­ced­ing there:
Who shall di­vide us from His love?
Or what should tempt us to des­pair?

Shall per­se­cution, or dis­tress,
Famine, or sword, or nak­ed­ness?
He that hath loved us bears us through,
And makes us more than con­quer­ors too.

Faith hath an ov­er­com­ing pow­er;
It tri­umphs in the dy­ing hour:
Christ is our life, our joy, our hope,
Nor can we sink with such a prop.

Not all that men on earth can do,
Nor pow­ers on high, nor pow­ers be­low,
Shall cause His mer­cy to re­move,
Or wean our hearts from Christ our love.