John Newton, from Olney Hymns, vol. 1, hymn 128
When Israel's tribes were parch'd with thirst,|
Forth from the rock the waters burst;
And all their future journey through
Yielded them drink, and Gospel too!
2. In Moses' rod a type they saw
3. But ah! the types were all too faint,
4. Their outward rock could feel no pain,|
But ours was wounded, torn and slain;
The rock gave but a wat'ry flood,
But Jesus pour'd forth streams of blood.
5. The earth is like their wilderness,
6. But let the Saviour's praise resound;
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