O could I speak the matchless worth,

O could I sound the glories forth,

Which in my Saviour shine;

I’d soar, and touch the heavenly strings,

And vie with Gabriel, while he sings

In notes almost divine.

2 I’d sing the precious blood he spilt,

My ransom from the dreadful guilt

Of sin, and wrath divine;

I’d sing his glorious righteousness,

In which all-perfect, heavenly dress,

My soul shall ever shine.

3 I’d sing the characters he bears,

And all the forms of love he wears,

Exalted on his throne;

In loftiest songs of sweetest praise,

I would to everlasting days

Make all his glories known.

4 Well, the delightful day will come,

When my dear Lord will bring me home,

And I shall see his face;

Then, with my Saviour, Brother, Friend,

A blest eternity I’ll spend,

Triumphant in his grace.