1 WHAT love it was that brought Thee down,
Down to the depths in which I lay,
That made Thee leave Thy glory-throne,
In Servant's form to tread Thy way;
Yet lower still to death to go,
That I might never judgment know.
2 My place is now in Thee above,
By virtue of Thy precious blood,
Before Thy Father's face in love,
Made now my Father and my God.
Oh! that my feeble voice might swell,
The praise of Him who loves so well.
3 'Tis love that cannot be explained,
It is too wonderful, too vast;
The heart of God alone contained,
Such thoughts divine in ages past.
But oh! I know it rests on me,
And will throughout eternity.
4 O fill me Lord yet more and more,
So that my heart e'en here below,
From Thy love's rich and boundless store,
Be satisfied and overflow.
Full with the blessing Thou hast given,
The foretaste now of what makes heaven.
