It is a thing most wonderful,
Almost too wonderful to be,
That God’s own Son should come from heaven
And die to save a child like me.
And yet I know that it is true;
He came to this poor world below,
And wept, and toiled, and mourned, and died,
Only because He loved us so.
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 ’tis more wonderful to see
My love for Him so faint and poor.
And yet I want to love Thee, Lord;
O light the flame within my heart,
And I will love Thee more and more,
Until I see Thee as Thou art.
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