O Lord of Glory! Who Couldst Leave

O Lord of glo­ry! who couldst leave

The height su­preme in death to lie

What tongue shall sing

what heart con­ceive

The love di­vine that made Thee die?

Bought with a price

for ev­er Thine

We break this bread

and drink this wine.

But here on earth

Thou wast alone

Proclaimer of this love to men;

Upon the cross

’twas ful­ly known

For God came forth to meet us then;

Rent from above

the part­ed veil

Announced to all that won­drous tale.

But ris’n

the first­born from the dead

Triumphant hast Thou en­tered in;

The glo­ri­ous Man

the liv­ing head

Thrice wor­thy Thou our hearts to win:

In Thy blest face all glo­ries shine

And there we gaze on love di­vine.