O LORD, to Thee my heart would raise a song,
Worship and praise to Thee, O Lord, belong,
For oh, what love, what grace to me Thou’st shown,
In making all the Father’s glory known
To one who once in nature’s darkness lay,
Blind, yea, thrice blind, without one cheering ray
Of love’s blest light to chase my soul’s deep gloom
(For yet more dark the inmates of the tomb),
Who in deep solitudes of darkness dwelt,
Yet by myself the darkness ne’er was felt
Until Thy voice, that voice which wakes the dead,
My conscience roused, and filled my soul with dread—
Dread of the yet unseen, the dark unknown,
The chilly grave, the awful judgment throne;
Until again that still, small voice I heard,
And then no more I death or judgment feared.
Open mine eyes—the light of life supreme
Burst on my soul with its effulgent beam,
And Thou—Thyself the Son of God, disclosed,
The darkness all dispelled, my fears composed;
My heart, lit up with the bright glory beam,
Nor yet repelled by its refulgent gleam,
Nay, in that light doth find its rest, its home,
Nor from this center may it ever roam,
But so enthralled by its surpassing light,
With steady gaze behold the glorious sight,
Until transformed to Thy blest image, Lord,
Performed in me that precious, glorious word,
Conformed to this image of His Son,
And so in me the Father’s will be done;
Yea, even now my spirit longs to know
The mighty power of that transforming glow,
That so my path be that which Thou hast trod,
The path that leads to glory and to God.