John Brownlie (trans.) · 87 of 99

87: Once the Lord, for our salvation

Once the Lord, for our salvation, Left the realm of endless bliss; And to serve, in lowly station, Came to such a world as this.

Weary oft He toiled in weakness, Winning erring lives from wrong; Dwelling with the poor in meekness, Bidding fainting souls be strong;

Bearing scorn and rude deriding, From the proud who passed Him by; Never the repentant chiding For their guilt and misery.

For His heart with love o'erflowing, Bound Him to our needy race; Day by day the gifts bestowing From the fulness of His grace.

Once upon a cross uplifted, Did the Lord for sinners die, That there might to man be gifted, Life, to live eternally.

Shall I then with such a Giver, Claim whate'er I have as mine? Nay, myself and mine, for ever, To His service I resign.