Hymn 68 — O Lord of glory, who couldst leave
| 68 | E. L. BEVIR | 8.8.8.8.8.8. |
| 1 |
O Lord of glory, who couldst leave The height supreme in death to lie, What tongue shall sing, what heart conceive The love divine that made Thee die? Bought with a price, for ever Thine, We bless Thee for Thy stoop divine. | |
| 2 |
But ris'n, the Firstborn from the dead, Triumphant hast Thou entered in; The glorious Man, the living Head, Thrice worthy Thou our hearts to win! In Thy blest face all glories shine, And there we gaze on love divine. | |