Behold What Wondrous Grace
The Father Has Bestowed
On Sinners Of A Mortal Race,
To Call Them Sons Of God!
‘Tis No Surprising Thing
That We Should Be Unknown;
The Jewish World Knew Not Their King,
God’s Everlasting Son.
Nor Doth It Yet Appear
How Great We Must Be Made;
But When We See Our Savior Here,
We Shall Be Like Our Head.
A Hope So Much Divine
May Trials Well Endure;
May Purge Our Souls From Sense And Sin,
As Christ The Lord Is Pure.
If In My Father’s Love
I Share A Filial Part,
Send Down Thy Spirit Like A Dove,
To Rest Upon My Heart.
We Would No Longer Lie
Like Slaves Beneath The Throne;
My Faith Shall Abba, Father, Cry,
And Thou The Kindred Own.
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