Hail, sov’reign love, which first began
The scheme to rescue fallen man;
Hail, matchless free eternal grace,
That gave my soul a hiding place.

Ere long a heav’nly voice I heard,
And mercy’s angel form appear’d,
She led me on with placid pace,
To Jesus as my hiding place.

Should storms of sev’nfold thunder roll,
And shake the globe from pole to pole,
No flaming bolt should daunt my face,
For Jesus is my hiding place.

Recordings 1 2 3 4