Most wondrous thought! Thou, oh our Savior God,
Whom e’en the heaven of heavens cannot contain,
Didst stoop to lowest depths; yet o’er that stoop
In all its mighty vastness, its profound
Unfathom’d depths, our souls must fain be mute.
Yet musing o’er Thy pathway, we behold,
Oh matchless Savior, such stupendous acts
Of grace, and love, and pure humility,
Our hearts o’erflow with praise. Who but Thyself
Would own “no reputation”! would accept
No breath of earthly fame, no word of praise
From flattering lips? Who but Thyself alone
Would deign to be by men o’erlook’d, ignored,
Thought nothing of? yet conscious all the while,
That glory, honor, majesty, and power,
By right belonged to Thee! Oh, patient One,
Obedient unto death: we hail with joy
The rapturous thought that henceforth evermore
Thyself shalt be th’ exalted One, whose name
Above all other names shall homage bear;
Our thrice victorious Lord.