It Is A Thing Most Wonderful,
Almost Too Wonderful To Be ;
That God’s Own Son Should Come From Heaven,
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.

I Cannot Tell How He Could Love
A Child So Weak And Full Of Sin ;
His Love Must Be Most Wonderful,
If He Could Die My Love To Win.

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 ;
Oh, Light The Flame Within My Heart,
And I Will Love Thee More And More,
Until I See Thee As Thou Art.