How can it be, thou heav’nly King,
That thou shouldst us to glory bring;
Make slaves the partners of thy throne,
Deck’d with a never fading crown?

What are our works but sin and death,
Till Thou Thy quick’ning Spirit breathe:
Thou giv’st the pow’r thy grace to move,
O wond’rous grace! O boundless love!

Take my poor heart, and let it be
For ever clos’d to all but thee!
Seal thou my breast, and let me wear
That pledge of love forever there.

How blest are they who still abide
Close shelter’d in thy bleeding side!
Who life and strength from thence derive,
And by thee move, and in thee live.

Ah! Lord, enlarge our scanty thought,
To know the wonders thou hast wrought;
Unloose our stamm’ring tongues to tell
Thy love immense, unsearchable!

First-born of many brethren thou,
To thee, lo! all our souls we bow;
To thee our hearts and hands we give;
Thine may we die, thine may we live.