Didst Thou not In our flesh appear,
And live and die below,
That I may now perceive Thee near,
And my Redeemer know?
Come then, and to my soul reveal
The heights and depths of grace,
The wounds which all my sorrows heal,
That dear disfigured face.
I view the Lamb In His own light,
Whom angels dimly see,
And gaze, transported at the sight,
Through all eternity.