It is a thing most wonderful Almost too wonderful to be, That God's own Son should come from heav'n, And die to save a child like me. And yet I know that it is true: He chose a poor and humble lot, And wept and toiled and mourned and died For love of those who loved Him not. But even could I see Him die, I could but see a little part Of that great love which, like a fire, Is always burning in His heart. It is most wonderful to know His love for me so free and sure; But 'tis more wonderful to see My love for him so faint and poor. And yet I want to love Thee, Lord; O light the flame within my heart, And I will love Thee more and more, Until I see Thee as Thou art.