It is a thing most wonderful
Almost too wonderful to be
That God's own Son should come from Heav'n
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 toil'd, and groan'd, and die'd
For love of those who loved Him not
I sometimes think about the cross
And shut my eyes, and try to see
The cruel nails, and crown of thorns
And Jesus crucified for me
But even could I see Him die
I should but see a little part
Of that great love, which like a fire
Is always burning in His heart
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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