Behold, what love, what boundless love
The Father hath bestowed
On sinners lost, that we should be
Now called the sons of God.
The Father hath bestowed
On sinners lost, that we should be
Now called the sons of God.
No longer far from Him, but now
By precious blood made nigh;
Accepted in the Well-beloved
Near to God’s heart we lie.
What we in glory soon shall be
It doth not yet appear;
But when our precious Lord we see.
We shall His image bear.
With such a blessed hope in view
We would more holy be,
More like our risen, glorious Lord.
Whose face we soon shall see.
[chorus]
Behold . . . what manner of love . . . what
manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon
us, that we . . . . that we should be called . . .
should be called the sons of God.