It is a thing most wonderful,
Almost too wonderful to be,
That Godís own Son should come from Heavín,
And die to save a child like me.
And yet I know that it is true;
He chose a poor and humble lot,
And wept, and toiled, and mourned, and died,
For love of those who loved Him not.
I cannot tell how He could love
A child so weak and full of sin;
His love must be most wonderful,
If He could die my love to win.
It is most wonderful to know
His love for me so free and sure;
But ítis more wonderful to see
My love for Him so faint and poor.
And yet I want to love Thee, Lord;
Oh, light the flame within my heart,
And I will love Thee more and more,
Until I see Thee as Thou art.