The Savior’s Face

How sweet

O Lord

Thy word of grace

Which bids a sin­ner seek Thy face

And nev­er seek in vain

And nev­er seek in vain;

That face

once set so stead­fast­ly

To meet Thy cross of ago­ny

Can nev­er me dis­dain

Can nev­er me dis­dain.

Thy vis­age

marred and crowned with thorn

Thou didst not hide from grief and scorn

Nor from the dew of night

Nor from the dew of night;

Yet

in that face a love ap­pears

Which scat­ters all my gloomy fears

And fills my soul with light

And fills my soul with light.

The heav­ens de­clare Thy pow­er and love;

In all Thy works

be­low

above

Thy ma­jes­ty I trace

Thy ma­jes­ty I trace

But mer­cy shines not in the skies

And hope with­in my spir­it dies

Until I see Thy face

Until I see Thy face.

The bright­ness of Thy glo­ry

Lord

Fills Heav­en and earth and writ­ten Word

With beams of heav­en­ly grace

With beams of heav­en­ly grace;

But all the hosts of Heav­en shine

With no such ra­di­ance di­vine

As Thy most bless­èd face

As Thy most bless­èd face.