1. I looked with fearful, trembling heart
    at clouds both thick and dark,
    around the mountain rock so tall
    rumble of the thunder’s call.
    But, ah! the sight!- the gospel bow!-
    it melts my fear like snow.
    My heart was eased as grace increased
    beyond my sin and woe.

    Chorus:
    The gospel bow, the gospel bow.
    The sign that unbelievers know
    so little of, say, ‘God is love,’
    but still refuse to bow.
    But we know grace, abounding grace,
    and in His mercy patient waits
    ’till Christ returns to shut the door.

  2. The rainbow clear, it cuts the sky,
    both ends near, top up high.
    It’s origin, like storm and wind,
    not from here but heaven.
    Dress now, my heart, be gospel-clad!
    Be no more sick and sad!
    Closest earth- hues of His reign;
    nearest heav’n- crimson red.