While as yet no world existed,
Ere began the stream of time,
While the depths and mountains were not,
From the ages He was thine.
Yet e’en then, Thy heart was thinking
Of the unborn human race:
Us in Christ Thou then wert choosing,
To the glory of Thy grace.
When were formed earth’s first foundations,
He was there before Thee then;
Always in Thy presence joying
In Thy love to sons of men.
He the heir, and by Him all things,
Mirror of Thy glory bright;
Sons of men were yet His pleasure,
With them then was His delight.
And when sin had marred creation—
Foul the blot that stained it then—
In Thy love He still was sharer
To the fallen sons of men.
Fallen—yet Thy love would reach them,
Lost—and yet Thy love would save:
But the cost! O, mighty question,
Known alone to Him who gave.
Down from off the throne eternal,
Not for angels came He then;
That were wondrous; but e’en lower
Stooped He for the sons of men.
Low the station, yet He took it,
He Jehovah’s fellow still;
Scoffing, shame, reproach For bore it,
For it was the Father’s will.
From the place of sin He shrank not,
He the holy, He the pure,
When our sin thou laidst upon Him,
In that dread and awful hour.
All alone, by God forsaken,
Loud the cry from Calvary’s hill,
As He took the cup and drank it,
For it was the Father’s will.
Death its sting did spend upon Him,
In the grave His body lay;
But its bands, they could not hold Him,
Naught Thy mighty power could stay.
From the grave triumphant rising,
Firstborn from among the dead,
Now above all power exalted,
Sits He as the church’s head.
On Thy throne we see Him seated,
Crowns of glory on His brow;
“All of one,” O, wondrous story!
“Brethren,” He does call us now.
Yes, with all the glory on Him,
Thinks He of us even then;
For to glory He is bringing
All the ransomed sons of men.
For a little while He’s left us,
And the path is rough and drear;
But His footsteps are upon it,
And the Comforter is here.
Words of peace He spoke on leaving;
On our way they ever cheer;
Tribulation He did tell of,
But in Him we do not fear.
For us now He is preparing
What was then His thought of love,
When He spoke of many mansions
In His Father’s home above.
And He’s coming, as He told us,
Quickly coming—that we know:
Then will dawn the bright “forever,”
Then will cease the walk below.
Lord; e’en now we sing Thy praises,
As we strike the heavenly chord—
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
To the Father of our Lord!
But a louder song awaits Thee,
And we’ll help to swell it then,
When in glory bursts the chorus
From the ransomed sons of men.