Begin, my tongue, the heavenly theme, Awake, my heart, and sing The word, unchangeably the same, Of our eternal king. Tell of his wondrous faithfulness, And sound his power abroad; Sing the sweet promise of his grace, And the performing god. Proclaim, "salvation from the lord, To wretched, dying men:" His hand hath writ the sacred word With an immortal pen. Engraved as in eternal brass, The mighty promise shines; Nor can the powers of darkness rase Those everlasting lines. Yes, every word of grace is strong As that which built the skies; The voice that rolls the stars along Speaks all the promises. O, might i hear that heavenly tongue But whisper, "thou art mine!" That gracious word should raise my song To notes almost divine.