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BROUGHT NIGH

“Riches of His grace.”—Eph. i. 7.

“Riches of His glory.”—Eph. iii. 16.

4546

W. R.

tr., Emma Frances Bevan, 1899

Rich, our God, art Thou in mercy,

Dead in sins were we,

When Thy great love rested on us,

Sinners, dear to Thee.

Blessed path of grace that led us

From the depths of death

To the fair eternal mansions

Quickened by Thy breath.

Riches of Thy grace have brought us

There, in Christ, to Thee;

Riches of Thy glory make us

Thy delight to be.

Not alone the stream that cleansed us

Flowed from Jesus dead,

Tides of glory now are flowing

From our living Head.

Down to us from Christ in Heaven

Those bright rivers run—

In His lowest saint and feeblest,

God beholds His Son.

He with deep delight is tracing

Every feature fair

Of His Son, His well-belovèd,

Throned beside Him there.

And those lines of glorious beauty

Here His eye can see,

Back to God in light reflected,

Christ revealed in me.

Gazing on the cloudless glory

Of the Lord we love,

Where unveiled He fills with radiance

Those bright courts above,

Day by day a change is passing

O’er each lifted brow,

Soon to shine like Christ in glory,

Though so dimly now.

Evermore that light transforms us

In the Father’s sight,

Not His love alone our portion,

But His full delight.

Not because of guilt, but glory,

Doth His love provide

That fair robe so well beseeming

Christ’s unspotted Bride.

Fair amidst His new creation

Formed from Christ alone,

God in us His Son beholding,

Rests, the work is done.

Wondrous riches of the glory

Won in shame and blood,

And from heaven outpoured in fulness,

Endless love of God.

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