Behold, what love, what boundless love The Father hath bestowed The Father hath bestowed On sinners lost, that we should be Now called the sons of God!
Behold, behold What manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us That we should be called That we should be called The sons, the sons of God!
No longer far from Him, but now By "precious blood" made nigh By "precious blood" made nigh Accepted in the "Wellbeloved," Near to God's heart we lie
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What we in glory soon shall be It doth not yet appear It doth not yet appear But when our precious Lord we see We shall His image bear
With such a blessed hope in view We would more holy be We would more holy be More like our risen, glorious Lord Whose face we soon shall see
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