Glory to Thee Thou Son of God Most High
Glory to Thee; Thou Son of God most High,
all praise to Thee!
Glory to Thee, enthroned above the sky,
who died for me;
high on Thy throne, Thine ear, Lord Jesus bend
as grateful hearts now to Thyself ascend.
Deep were Thy sorrows, Lord, when heaven frowned -
Bloodlike Thy sweat, Lord, falling to the ground
dark was the night, but heaven was darker still,
O Christ my God, is this the Father’s will?
Thorns wreathed Thy brow when hanging on the tree,
Why lavish love like this, O Lord, on me?
Thou lovest me!
Would that my soul could understand its length,
its breadth, depth, height, and everlasting strength!
Thy precious blood was freely shed for me
to save me from a lost eternity;
glory to Thee!
Nor death, nor hell, nor things below - above
can sever me from Thy eternal love.
Like shoreless seas, Thy love can know no bound;
Thou lovest me!
Deep, vast, immense, unfathomed, Lord, profound,
Lord, I love Thee!
And when above, my crown is at Thy feet,
I’ll praise Thee still for Calvary’s mercy seat
Anne Ross Cousin
(from a poem entitled The Sands of Time are Sinking--incidentally, I did not know that. I just found out after googling the words.)
O Christ, He is the fountain, the deep, sweet well of love!
The streams of earth I’ve tasted more deep I’ll drink above:
There to an ocean fullness His mercy doth expand,
And glory, glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.
With mercy and with judgment my web of time He wove,
And aye, the dews of sorrow were lustered with His love;
I’ll bless the hand that guided, I’ll bless the heart that planned
When throned where glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.
O I am my Beloved’s and my Beloved’s mine!
He brings a poor vile sinner into His “house of wine.”
I stand upon His merit—I know no other stand,
Not even where glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.
The Bride eyes not her garment, but her dear Bridegroom’s face;
I will not gaze at glory but on my King of grace.
Not at the crown He giveth but on His pierced hand;
The Lamb is all the glory of Immanuel’s land.