Behold, what love, what boundless love,
The Father hath bestowed
On sinners lost, that we should be
Now called " the sons of God !"
" Behold . . . what manner of love . . .
what manner of love the Father hath bestowed
upon us, that we . . . that we should be
called . . . should be called the sons of God !
No longer far from Him, but now
By " precious blood " made nigh,
Accepted in the " Well-beloved,"
Near to God's heart we lie.
What we in glory soon shall be,
It doth not yet appear;
But when our precious Lord we see,
We shall His image bear.
With such a blessed hope in view,
We would more holy be,
More like our risen, glorious Lord,
Whose face we soon shall see.