A HYMN FOR PASSION SUNDAY
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.
Almost too wonderful to be,
That God's own Son should come from heav'n,
And die to save a child like me.
2 And yet I know that it is true:
He chose a poor and humble lot,
And wept and toiled and mourned and died
For love of those who loved Him not.
He chose a poor and humble lot,
And wept and toiled and mourned and died
For love of those who loved Him not.
3 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.
A child so weak and full of sin;
His love must be most wonderful
If He could die my love to win.
4 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.
And shut my eyes, and try to see
The cruel nails and crown of thorns,
And Jesus crucified for me.
5 But even could I see Him die,
I could but see a little part
Of that great love which, like a fire,
Is always burning in His heart.
I could but see a little part
Of that great love which, like a fire,
Is always burning in His heart.
6 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.
His love for me so free and sure;
But 'tis more wonderful to see
My love for him so faint and poor.
7 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.
O light the flame within my heart,
And I will love Thee more and more,
Until I see Thee as Thou art.
By William Walsham How, 1872
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