Behold, what love, what boundless love
The Father hath bestowed
The Father hath bestowed
On sinners lost, that we should be
Now called the sons of God!
Behold, behold
What manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us
That we should be called
That we should be called
The sons, the sons of God!
No longer far from Him, but now
By "precious blood" made nigh
By "precious blood" made nigh
Accepted in the "Wellbeloved,"
Near to God's heart we lie
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What we in glory soon shall be
It doth not yet appear
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
We would more holy be
More like our risen, glorious Lord
Whose face we soon shall see
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