Jesus, My Lord, How Rich Thy Grace!

Jesus

my Lord

how rich Thy grace!

Thy boun­ties how com­plete!

How shall I count the match­less sum?

How pay the migh­ty debt?

High on a throne of ra­di­ant light

Dost Thou ex­alt­ed shine;

What can my po­ver­ty be­stow

When all the worlds are Thine?

But Thou hast breth­ren here be­low

The part­ners of Thy grace

And wilt con­fess their hum­ble names

Before Thy Fa­ther’s face.

In them Thou mayst be clothed and fed

And vis­it­ed and cheered

And in their ac­cents of dis­tress

My Sav­ior’s voice is heard.

Thy face

with rev­er­ence and with love

I in Thy poor would see;

O ra­ther let me beg my bread

Than hold it back from Thee.