Glory to That Victorious Grace

Glory to that vic­tor­ious grace

Thro’ which a worm can all things do!

I stand o’er­whelmed with vast am­aze

And scarce be­lieve the won­der true;

’Tis more than heart could e’er con­ceive

I know my child is dead—and live!

Where is the pas­sion­ate re­gret

The fond complaint

and lin­ger­ing smart?

Can I my suck­ing child for­get

So free­ly with my Is­aac part

So cheer­ful­ly my all re­sign

And tri­umph in the will di­vine?

Son of my womb

my joy

my hope

He lived

my yearn­ing heart’s de­sire

Yet lo! I glad­ly give him up

No long­er mine

if God re­quire

And with a sud­den stroke re­move

Whom on­ly less than God I love.

Nature would cry

My son

my son!

O that I now had died for thee!

But faith re­plies

His will be done

Who lent the bless­ing first to me;

Lent

and re­sumes

it is the Lord!

His will be done

His name ad­ored!

With all my soul

O Lord

I give

The child Thy love hath snatched away;

On earth I would not have him live

With me I would not have him stay;

The sac­ri­fice long since was o’er

I stand to what I gave be­fore.

I all have left for Je­su’s sake

And shall I grieve to part with one!

No

if a wish could call him back

I would not have my dar­ling son

Brought from his ev­er­last­ing rest

Snatched from his heav’n­ly Fa­ther’s breast.

Pass a few fleet­ing days

or years

And I shall see my child again;

When Je­sus in the clouds ap­pears

With Him I shall in glo­ry reign

I and the child­ren He hath giv’n

Inseparably joined in Heav’n.