Behold What Wondrous Grace

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.