O blessed Saviour, is Thy love
  So great, so full, so free ?
     Fain would we have our thoughts, our hearts,
  Our lives engaged with Thee.

We love Thee for the glorious worth
  Which in Thyself we see:
     We love Thee for that shameful cross,
      Endured so patiently.

No man of greater love can boast
  Than for His friend to die;
     Thou for Thine enemies wast slain !
  What love with Thine can vie ?

Though in the very form of God,
  With heavenly glory crowned,
     Thou didst a servant's form assume,
  Beset with sorrow round.

Thou wouldst like wretched man be made
  In everything but sin,
     That we as like Thee might become
  As we unlike had been:

Like Thee in faith, in meekness, love,
  In every beauteous grace;
     From glory into glory changed,
  Till we behold Thy face.

O Lord ! we treasure in our souls
  The memory of Thy love;
     And ever shall Thy name to us
  A grateful odour prove.

C.M.            Stennett, 1697