Stuart Townend - There is a hope

^FThere ^Gis a ^Chope that ^Dmburns ^Cwithin my ^Fheart, That ^Dmgives ^Ame ^Dmstrength for ^Cevery ^Fpassing ^Gday; A ^Fglimpse ^Gof ^Cglory ^Dmnow ^Crevealed in ^Fmea^Ggre ^Ampart, Yet ^Cdrives all ^D7doubt a^Gway: I ^Amstand in ^EmChrist, with ^Fsins fo^Crgiven; And ^DmChrist in ^Eme, the ^Amhope ^Gof ^Cheaven! ^GMy ^Chighest ^Fcalling and my ^Cdeep^Eest ^Amjoy, ^FTo ^Cmake His ^G7will my ^Chome.

^FThere ^Gis a ^Chope that ^Dmlifts ^Cmy weary h^Fead, A ^Dmcon^Aso^Dmlation s^Ctrong a^Fgainst des^Gpair, ^FThat ^Gwhen the ^Cworld has ^Dmplunged me ^Cin its ^Fdee^Gpest^Am pit, I ^Cfind the S^D7aviour ^Gthere! Through^Am present ^Emsufferings, ^Ffuture’s ^Cfear, He^Dm whispers ‘^Ecourage’ ^Amin ^Gmy ^Cear. ^GFor ^CI am ^Fsafe in ever^Clast^Eing ^Amarms, ^FAnd ^Cthey will^G7 lead me ^Chome.

^FThere ^Gis a ^Chope that ^Dmstands the ^Ctest of ^Ftime, That ^Dmlifts ^Amy e^Dmyes bey^Cond the ^Fbeckoning ^Ggrave, ^FTo s^Gee the ^Cmatchless ^Dmbeauty of a ^Cday ^Fdiv^Gine ^Am When ^CI beho^D7ld His ^Cface! When ^Dmsufferings ^Ecease and ^Amsorr^Gows ^Cdie, And ^Dmevery ^Elonging ^Amsat^Gisf^Cied. ^GThen ^Cjoy uns^Fpeakable will ^Cflood ^Emy ^Amsoul, ^FFor ^CI am ^G7truly ^Chome.