Classic Poem

HYMN XXII.

M Y blessed Saviour, is thy love
So great, so full, so free?
Behold I give my love, my heart,
My life, my all, to thee.

I love thee for the glorious worth
In thy great self I see:
I love thee for that shameful cross
Thou hast endur'd for me.

No man of greater love can boast
Than for his friend to die:
But for thy enemies thou wast slain:
What love with thine can vie!

Tho in the very form of God,
With heavenly glory crown'd,
Thou wouldst partake of human flesh,
Beset with troubles round.

Thou wouldst like wretched man be made
In every thing but sin;
That we as like thee might become,
As we unlike have been:

Like thee in faith, in meekness, love,
In every beauteous grace;
From glory thus to glory chang'd,
As we behold thy face.

O Lord , I'll treasure in my soul
The mem'ry of thy love:
And thy dear name shall still to me
A grateful odor prove.

Thy friends, the excellent on earth,
Shall be my chief delight:
And when alone, I'll make thy law
My study day and night.

Where thou dost pitch thy tent, and where
Thy honour deigns to dwell,
There I'll fix mine, and there reside,
There thy love's wonders tell.

The pledges of thy love shall there
Revive this heart of mine;
Thy love, more fragrant and more sweet
Than bowls of generous wine.