O Thou who in love to my soul,
Thy blood as a ransom hast given
That an end might be brought to the dole
That me without respite had riven.
I will praise Thee as long as I live,
Of Thee shall my song be for ever;
For nothing the creature can give
My life from my Saviour shall sever.
Whom have I in heaven but Thee?
Thou canst not on earth have a rival:
When all things forgotten shall be
In my heart Thy love must have survival.
Were the wealth of this world made my own,
And here mine existence made endless,
Without Thee my lot were but lone,
Poor, wretched, forsaken, and friendless.
And what, Lord, were heaven to Thee?
And what were the kingdom eternal?
Hadst Thou been compelled to leave me
In the fetters of forces infernal?
Thou shalt see of the sorrowful travail
Thro’ which we by blood have been bought,
And our songs shall delight to unravel
The glories Thy sufferings have wrought.
’Twas not that the cry of my heart
Was instant for Thine intervention,
That Thou shouldest suffer the smart
For my faults was beyond comprehension.
For alas! in my trespass I lay
A rebel against my Creator,
And willingly under the sway
Of my primal deceiver and traitor.
Love sovereign, unfettered, and free,
Brought Thee from the glory to gather
Detestable objects like me
To the heart and the home of Thy Father.
The manger, the gibbet, the grave,
These witness Thy humiliation,
From the throne of the highest to save
Thou didst go to the depths of creation.
But the work Thou hast gloriously done
Has the right of the Throne vindicated,
My soul to Thy service has won
And my trespasses dark expiated.
I wait for Thy coming again
All links with what’s mortal to sever;
The glory with Thee to obtain
In the home of the Father for ever.
Till then to Thy servant give grace
That he may be true to Thy name,
And with gladness great gaze on Thy face,
And publish in praises Thy fame.