O how shall I receive Thee, How greet Thee, Lord, aright? All nations long to see Thee, My Hope, my heart's Delight! O kindle, Lord, most holy, Thy lamp within my breast, To do in spirit lowly All that may please Thee best. Thy Zion palms is strewing, And branches fresh and fair; My heart, its powers renewing, An anthem shall prepare. My soul puts off her sadness Thy glories to proclaim; With all her strength and gladness She fain would serve Thy Name. I lay in fetters groaning, Thou com'st to set me free; I stood, my shame bemoaning, Thou com'st to honor me. A glory Thou dost give me, A treasure safe on high, That will not fail nor leave me As earthly riches fly. Love caused Thine incarnation Love brought Thee down to me; Thy thirst for my salvation Procured my liberty. O love beyond all telling, That led Thee to embrace, In love all love excelling, Our lost and fallen race! Rejoice, then, ye sad-hearted, Who sit in deepest gloom, Who mourn o'er joys departed, And tremble at your doom: He Who alone can cheer you, Is standing at the door; He brings His pity near you, And bids you weep no more.
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