Behold what love, what boundless love
The Father hath bestowed
On sinners lost, that we should be
Now called the sons of God.
In matchless grace, in wondrous love
He sent His blessed Son,
That He His scattered children thus
Might gather into one.
No longer far from Him, but now
By precious blood made nigh,
Accepted in the Well-beloved,
Near to God’s heart we lie.
What we in glory soon shall be,
It doth not yet appear,
But when our precious Lord we see,
We shall His image bear.
With such a blessed hope in view
We would more holy be,
More like our risen, glorious Lord,
Whose face we soon shall see