Poem: The Mystery of Salvation

What hope have we who's sin's piled high;
are recorded for all time.

Sin! Sin!, we stand in Sin, on eve of deaths swift stroke.

Our hope they say, is that he died.
Nailed hard upon a tree. 

He made a peace with God for us.
His blood the price of life.

The sweet voice of Christ
Our salvation sure; please call me forth to thee.

No longer alone , we stand no longer alone
on the eve of deaths swift stroke.

Cleansed by his blood, free of all sin
He has made us God's childen again.